


Howl

by Sol1056



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, M/M, Prostitution, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-17
Updated: 2005-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 55,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056
Summary: "Yeah, better be careful," the man said. He grinned, but his eyes were narrowed, his gaze darting between Heero and Relena as if measuring, assessing, and seeing something that pleased him. "Never know. Anyone finds out, they'll make it a sin to fantasize about your own damn spouse, next. Hell, next they'll outlaw companions."





	1. Chapter 1

_"burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars"_  
— Jack Kerouac

 

 

The cigarette had burned down halfway, glowing cherry red in the twilight, illuminating the edge of the cheap copper ashtray, the stained plastic table. Heero stared at the cigarette's cherry, then down between his legs, willing the faint, fast, furious rush of his orgasm. Trowa's head moved between Heero's hips just the way Heero liked it: slow, a contrast of feel and friction against the heat and wet. But nothing happened, and Heero resisted the urge to moan in frustration.

With a groan, he shoved at Trowa's head, pushing him away.

"Never mind," Heero said. "It's not working." He curled forward to rest his elbows on his knees, then took the cigarette from the ashtray. Holding it between forefinger and thumb, he took a long deep drag. It stung his throat and made his eyes water as though crying.

Trowa wiped his mouth but remained on the floor, though he moved to sit cross-legged. He grabbed the pack from its forgotten spot on the floor, tapping it upside down until a stick fell out. Lighting it, he exhaled the gray taint into the air. It billowed above him, and he leaned back, supporting his weight on one hand while he scratched idly at his bare chest.

"You've still got an hour," Trowa said, reasonably. It went unsaid: we'll try again.

"Don't bother," Heero replied, and stabbed out the smoke. He could feel its stink trapped in his pores. He'd be scrubbing for an hour to get the smell out of his skin. Relena hated the smell, but he couldn't blame her; normally he did, too, except for one day a week. "I'm too tense to even tense up."

Trowa nodded, eyes narrowed to glowing slits above the harsh smoke. He released it, lowering the cigarette and studying the cherry, the gray ash growing, covering the red heart. "I didn't expect you back so soon." He tilted his head, the auburn hair falling out of his face long enough to give Heero a scrutinizing look. "Success already?"

Heero leaned back, sprawling in the chair, and didn't give a damn that he was naked. The city was sweltering in the mid-summer drought, dry and hot but for the beads of sweat pooling at his collarbones. The reek of flesh, layers under deodorant and antiperspirant, a dry chemical smell that reminded him of basic training: locker rooms and ammunitions storage. He stared at the yellowed ceiling.

"The opposite," Heero finally growled. "You'll be swallowing nothing but a lot of juice. Empty."

"Sterile," Trowa said; his voice hitched on the word but his expression remained impassive.

"Yeah."

Heero rubbed his forehead, then dropped his hand to wipe away the sweat dripping down his chest. His feet itched, where his socks had imprinted on his skin during the long day of sitting in the DPM offices. The fan in the window barely stirred the apartment's air, but it was enough to make the hairs on his legs stir. He scratched his balls and dropped his hand again, too aggravated to even care that he'd lost his erection as soon as Trowa had pulled away.

"They sent you back to work?" Trowa leaned forward, long arm of tight, graceful tendons and muscles, angular but strong; he stubbed out the cigarette, and settled back on both arms.

"No." Heero gave him a weary smile. "Relena's mother pulled a few strings. The doctors are running tests."

"You don't sound hopeful."

"There's no reason to be." Heero started to stand up, but Trowa put a hand on his knee, and Heero sank back down in the chair. "You don't have to... "

Trowa shrugged. "You've got forty-five minutes—"

"Always so mercenary," Heero cut in.

"Of course," Trowa replied, without blinking an eye, but a smirk played across the edges of his lips.

Lips neither too full nor too thin, Heero mused. Long, patrician nose, green eyes, high cheekbones, all the things a woman would call handsome. Except for one fatal flaw.

"Guess I should've let them... " Heero sighed, shivering at the touch of Trowa's callused fingers on his thighs. "I just... she wanted a chance, so badly. When her mother said she could get us around... "

Trowa murmured something, deep in his throat, but his gaze never left Heero. He simply listened, as he had for years.

"Now I find myself wondering if perhaps if we'd known, we wouldn't have wasted all that... " He shrugged, not sure how to put it, but Trowa would understand. Slim fingers caressed his balls, and Heero shifted, spreading his legs a bit wider, at the same time shifting blame back where it belonged. "Those bastards. Pumping us full of drugs during the war... "

A mouth descended on his cock, and Heero fell silent, but his mind continued to churn. Once the doctors came back with the final word, nothing short of a miracle would create a second chance. Hell, he was lucky they'd not been stricken immediately from the list, but that was only because Relena's mother still had some pull, after all these years.

Trowa's nose pressed against Heero's skin, and Heero shuddered, feeling the draw of blood and pleasure and guilt coursing through his body. Two fingers slid down between his legs, one pushing gently into his ass, just enough to spark. A little pain, a little pleasure. Heero gasped, forcing himself to enjoy the moment, but when he closed his eyes, he could only see Relena, staring at him in shock when the doctors explained why she still wasn't pregnant.

He came, a grunt the only warning, and stared at the ceiling while Trowa drank it down. Just juice, he thought, miserably. Nothing in there, not even enough to reduce, purify, extract; nothing but juice. It made for a hollow orgasm, and the idea almost caused him to laugh. Hollow.

Yeah, that about described it.

 

 

 

"You have a nice visit?" Relena looked up from the sink. She was refilling the teapot, the funnel at an odd angle while she wrestled the plastic jug of drinking water into place.

"Yeah."

Heero took the jug, while she held the funnel in place. They were silent, watching the expensive clarity gurgling into the teapot. When Relena nodded, he pulled back, capping the jug and putting it away. It still unnerved him, Relena's casual acceptance of the situation, now that they'd had a week or two. Or perhaps it was despair, and he just didn't recognize it for having never seen it before.

"You still seem tense," she observed, glancing at him from under her eyelashes. "Are you sure—"

"Yes," he snapped, then immediately relented. "Sorry," he mumbled. "No. It was... okay. But I just kept thinking—"

"Don't," she murmured, and kissed him on the cheek. She set the teapot on the stove, and fired up the burner. "That's my job. You just stand around and look handsome, remember?" Her smile, tossed over her shoulder, was a faint shadow of the girl he'd met, after the war.

He couldn't even manage the mildly annoyed smirk he normally gave her. After a minute she came to lean against him, arms going around his waist, her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're good for more than that."

"Maybe I'm not," he replied, absently brushing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. "Maybe I should've kept the job as your head of security, never thought to—"

"Hush," she reprimanded him. "I don't care. Really." Relena leaned back, looking up at him with earnest blue eyes. "Even if this is it, I still wouldn't trade the past six years. Not for anything."

"Relena," he whispered, and sighed. "You know what'll happen."

Her fingers dug into his sides, clawing enough to make him wince. "I won't let it. I'll talk to Mother," she insisted. Her gaze went distant; he knew she was already making plans, laying groundwork, considering what strings to pull. "You were a war hero, after all, and I could still—"

"Enough," Heero said, gently prying her hands away from him. He held up her hands, kissing each palm, before lowering her hands to kiss her on the forehead. "Trowa's girl is in town, and he's off tonight. We've got an invitation down town, if you want... "

"It's a work night," Relena replied automatically, then flushed. "Okay, maybe not... but going out on a Tuesday." Her eyes crinkled, a half-smile. "Doesn't that seem... weird, somehow?"

"Weird?" Heero gave her a bemused look.

"Yeah." She shrugged, with one shoulder. "Like it should be illegal to have fun during the week."

"Be quiet." Heero leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. "Don't let the walls get any ideas, or they'll be outlawing fun on weekdays, next."

She gave him an exasperated look, and he chuckled, softly. Relena was quiet for a bit, then nodded. "Okay. Where are we going? Trowa give any hints on what should I wear?"

"Clothes," Heero said, then smirked. "Or go without. After all, it's our last—"

"No," she said, and pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't say it. Tonight I want you to wear those black jeans, and I'll wear the leather skirt and we can pretend we're just one more couple who won the lottery."

He stared at her for a moment, noting the fine lines around her eyes, the tightness in her lips. "You sure you're up to this?"

"Of course," she parried, but her shoulders slumped. "The new medication works a lot better. I'll be fine, but the minute I'm not, I'll tell you. Okay?"

"Promise?" His lips moved against her finger. He searched her face, knowing she could pull one over on him quite easily when she chose. She'd done it for years, when she wanted her own way, although never over anything too serious.

"Yes," and she sighed melodramatically. "I promise." She promptly undid the moment by grinning at him.

Heero chuckled, then opened his mouth and sucked her finger in. Licking and nibbling, he was pleased to see her eyes glaze over, just a little. Releasing her finger, he smiled.

"Oh, don't you look smug," she said, poking him in the chest before stepping away to check the teapot. "We'll have tea, get dressed, and then go?"

"I'm not smug," Heero retorted.

"Is that so." Relena pretended to straighten her shoulder-length hair in the wall oven's reflection. "I know what you're thinking."

"Oh?" Heero came to stand behind her, staring into her darkened reflection. There was a slim crack, running up the corner of the heat-glass.

"Yes." Relena narrowed her eyes, and tapped her finger against her chin. "Ah, her eyes are rolling back in her head. I bet Dorothy can't do that."

Heero scowled.

"Don't lie," she said, bumping her hips backwards against his. "You were."

"Okay." Heero shrugged. "Maybe a little. But I just don't like her."

"You haven't liked her for four years," Relena pointed out. "I'm not exactly holding my breath that'll change."

Heero said nothing, but hugged her tighter.

 

 

 

The bar was a dark, smoky affair, with a sultry tenor singing some old love song over the speakers. There were several people standing around two pool tables, watching as a young man took aim. He was laughing over his shoulder at his friends, and Heero noted the man's slim build and wicked smile before Relena tugged Heero farther towards the back.

Trowa waved casually when they reached the booth. His girl, leaning half across his lap, was dressed in a dark purple shirt, and her black hair glowed under the string of blue lights hanging from bare nails in the concrete walls. She was talking animatedly, pointing at the pool tables, but fell silent at Heero and Relena's approach. Trowa twitched his head a bit to get the hair out of his eyes, and looked Relena up and down.

"Like the skirt," he said. "If I'd known, I'd have worn mine."

"You can't," his girl said. "I'm wearing it, smartass." She leaned past him to offer her hand to Relena. "You must be Relena? I'm Hilde."

Relena stared at the hand, a bit confused, then took it, shaking Hilde's hand with a smile. Heero, meanwhile, pivoted, noting the bar's layout, the exits, the alarm points, and the clerestory windows, set up high in the concrete block walls. Then he helped Relena into the booth, and scooted in beside her. Hilde gave him a quick smile, and he managed one in return. Trowa hadn't mentioned breaking up, but for a second Heero hadn't recognized the girl.

"You cut your hair," he said, unexpectedly.

"Three months ago," Hilde replied, laughing. Trowa arched an eyebrow, and Hilde gave Heero a teasing look. "I won't give you grief about being a guy. It's not like you've seen me six times since then." She elbowed Trowa, who hunched over, protecting his ribs.

Trowa straightened up and yanked Hilde into his lap. He waved to the bartender, and leaned back in his seat. He gave Relena an apologetic smile. "I forgot you two hadn't met."

"No, not yet," Relena said, giving Hilde a shy smile. She coughed, then made a face at Heero's suspicious look. "It's the smoke. Sorry."

"We'll refrain in this corner," Trowa assured her. He put out his hand, and the cigarette pack on the table was suddenly gone, secreted somewhere through long-experienced sleight of hand. "You look well."

"I'm doing better," Relena assured him. She leaned in close to Heero, and slipped her arm through his. He inhaled deeply, letting the faint scent of her spicy perfume overwhelm the stink of stale beer and cigarettes, the hint of vomit and piss in the distant corners.

"Maybe," Relena said, edging closer with a hopeful look, "I can get Heero to teach me pool... "

"You don't know how to play?" Hilde looked startled, then twisted to glare at Trowa. "How rude. You picked a pool hall, and she's never played?"

"Perhaps I was being gracious," Trowa demurred. "Give her a chance to learn."

"I'd like to," Relena said, peering past Heero at the tables. "Is it hard?"

Trowa chuckled, low in his throat, and shifted Hilde off his lap. He stood up, and held out a hand to Relena. "Order me a beer," he told Hilde.

Heero let Relena out of the booth, then settled back in, giving his order to the waitress when she came around. For a few moments they were quiet, listening to the rumble of voices at the pool table. If Heero let his eyes go unfocused, Relena looked eighteen again, laughing and joking as if there were no threat of annulment or job loss or anything else hanging over their heads. He sighed.

"Hey," Hilde said, and moved around the inside of the booth to sit next to Heero. "Tro tells me you've been kinda down." She pulled back at Heero's sharp look, and giggled nervously. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but... I just wanted to tell you, my brother's in town."

"And?" Heero shook his head. "I have a companion already. I'm not in the market to replace him."

"No, I didn't mean like that." Hilde rolled her eyes. "I'm not suggesting anything that would lose Trowa one of his longest clients. It's just... " She glanced around the club, a subtle quick look, and leaned in closer. "My brother's got protection." She barely moved her lips when she spoke. "Good price, and high quality."

Heero blinked, then frowned. "No reason to waste it on us. We won the lottery."

"No fuckin' way," Hilde breathed, eyes wide. For a moment, he could see the clear blue of her pupils, catching the light from the cheap strings glittering against the wall. She leaned forward, then jerked away at the last minute with a self-conscious laugh. "Oops, forgot your type isn't for hugging. But still! Congratulations."

"Yeah."

He shrugged, and looked up to see the waitress was putting down their drinks. Heero took the shot, throwing it back, stone-faced, and set the empty glass on the table, upside down. He took the beer and wiped the bottle's rim with his sleeve before taking a sip. It tasted like piss and rainwater, more chemicals than barley. It had been years since he'd had a real beer, but that was the purpose of the shot, anyway. Dulled the tongue so the beer was tolerable.

"You don't seem happy," Hilde observed, and drank down her own shot, a little slower. She seemed to be lingering over it, watching him across the top of the small glass.

He frowned, not sure what to say. But Hilde had been with Trowa almost a year, and if Trowa trusted her, that was probably the highest recommendation anyone could get. Heero sighed, and fingered the lip of his beer bottle. "There have been complications."

"Korsa syndrome?" Hilde's eyes were wide, but her mouth was open in a round 'o', giving her a sorrowful look.

"Yeah." He shrugged, glancing at her sideways.

"Oh. That sucks."

"Yeah," he said again.

Over at the pool table, Relena was sandwiched between Trowa and another man, laughing as she tried valiantly to get at her pool cue, which Trowa was holding over his head. She jumped a little, her hand reaching up, but when she came down, she coughed abruptly, falling against Trowa's chest with the convulsions. Heero came to his feet immediately, and in five long strides was shoving the stranger out of the way.

"Relly," he whispered in her ear, smoothing her hair back from her face. He pressed his hands against her stomach, firm, while she coughed. She finally caught her breath, slumped in his arms, then patted his hands, but he didn't let go. "Okay now? Should we—"

"No, no, I'm okay. It was just... a bit much," she said, and smiled weakly. "But it's okay." At Heero's annoyed look, she sighed and kissed him on the cheek. "Really. I just got a bit excited there, thanks to someone—" She shot a pout at Trowa, who gave her a suitably chastened look. "—Thought he'd play keep-away."

Trowa handed her the cue, and Relena took it with a dignified toss of her head. She turned around, to smile at the stranger, and beckon him close.

"This is my husband, Heero," she told the man.

When the man stepped forward, Heero realized the guy's red-brown hair was pulled back, away from his face. He was dressed all in black, no different from most people there, but the cut of his clothes was a little odd, the collar higher, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms, if pale.

"Pleased to meet ya, Heero," the man said, and gave Relena a little bow. "I was just trying to give your gorgeous wife lessons, before this reprobate snuck up and ruined our fun."

Trowa looked bored, but there was a smirk hiding in his expression.

"She's not bad," the man continued, winking at Heero. "Got the figure for a pool shark, if lacking the instincts." He gave Relena the once-over, and grinned widely. "With those curves? Who cares how she's playing." He leered at Relena, who flushed, pressing herself against Heero. The man gave Heero a sheepish grin and leaned on his pool cue; Heero was struck by how pale the man's skin was under the pool table's smoke-stained lamplight. The man paused, appearing to reconsider his words. "Well, they'd care what she's doing, but only if she's the one they get to... play." His words took a second meaning when his smile grew sharper, almost predatory.

"Oh," Relena gasped, eyes wide. She looked sideways at Heero, as though embarrassed.

"I can't speak for anyone else," Heero said, quite seriously. He considered the picture of his wife on her hands and knees, skirt up around her waist, kneeling on the pool table. "I think it'd be—"

"Heero," Relena hissed, and nudged him sharply with her elbow. "We're in public."

"I didn't realize I had to be in private to fantasize about you," Heero replied, a bit perturbed.

"Yeah, better be careful," the man said. He grinned, but his eyes were narrowed, his gaze darting between Heero and Relena as if measuring, assessing, and seeing something that pleased him. "Never know. Anyone finds out, they'll make it a sin to fantasize about your own damn spouse, next. Hell, next they'll outlaw companions."

"I hope not," Trowa murmured behind them, leaning over the table to take a shot. "I hate working retail."

"Heh, your customer service skills are reprehensible," the man retorted, but without rancor. "How'd you get your job, anyway?"

"My keen fashion sense." Trowa took the shot, sinking two balls at the same time. He stood up, and brushed invisible flecks of dirt off the shoulders of his worn black sweater.

"Or something," the man shot back, then realized Heero was still staring at him. The man rubbed his nose, gave Heero a puzzled look, and then laughed out loud. "Man, you should've said something. My manners just went out the door at the sight of pretty legs. I'm Hilde's brother." He stuck out his hand, just like Hilde had, and Heero glanced down before pulling away slightly. The man dropped his hand, apparently not bothered. He grinned again, and tugged Relena towards the table. "Your turn, babe. Remember, you don't want the white ball going in."

Relena nodded and leaned over the table between the two men. Her hips were directly between them, and Heero wondered if she were aware she was rubbing against both of them as she moved around, trying to angle the cue for her shot. Both men looked down, and Heero imagined the other man was also noting the long, lean thighs disappearing under the leather skirt, the supple hint of slender curves encased in leather. The man whistled, and grinned at Heero.

"Anyway," the man said, and winked, "name's Duo Maxwell. Pleasure."

"Likewise," Heero answered automatically.

"Yeah, I hope so," Duo said, laughing again, but when Heero frowned, Duo didn't explain the joke.

 

 

 

"I need to shower," Relena griped. "I reek of smoke, I'm sure."

"Take your meds," Heero replied, automatically.

"I will." She nodded and pulled the hair band from her hair, scratching at her scalp; an exhausted gesture. She leaned into the kitchen, picking the correct medicine bottle out of long habit, and poured out the proper number into her hand. Relena popped the pills into her mouth, making a face.

"Easier with water," Heero observed, but she shrugged, continuing towards the bedroom. He locked the door, pulled the deadbolts in place, and trailed behind her, picking up the various items – shoes, skirt, shirt, bra – that she dropped. He busied himself putting them away while she started the water, then sat on the bed and stared at the wall while he waited for his turn. Their wedding picture hung by the bedroom door, and he found himself smiling at their younger selves. Relena, looking blissfully happy; the younger Heero just looked shell-shocked, although he wore a shy smile.

Sometimes it amazed Heero that he'd done so well for himself, and it made sense that eventually it'd come crashing down. A war orphan's best chance in society was the military, but he'd never expected to be discharged right after the last war. An explosion on his last mission had sent shrapnel into his temple, damaging his peripheral vision and giving him a minor blind spot on the right side. Not enough that he ever noticed, really, but it was enough for the military, and that last mission became his final one.

Years of barracks: one bed, one trunk; now he had a bedroom big enough for a queen-sized bed with even a few feet to walk around it. The closet ran the length of the wall, drawers and hanging racks behind slim-line plastic doors. The bathroom was big enough for two people to fit into it, if one stood over the toilet while the other stood at the sink. And the living room was massive, he told himself, reciting the litany of their luxurious lifestyle, as if memorizing it in case it was all taken away, too soon. They had room for a loveseat and a separate chair, and Relena had found a glass table she liked – the perfect size for a chessboard – that they sometimes ate dinner at, when they wanted to be lazy and watch a vid-movie on the sofa together.

The kitchen was decent, enough room for a small table and two chairs; they'd held off on the expense of getting more. They rarely entertained, and any child would need a high-chair for a long time before needing an adult's chair.

In all, he'd managed quite well, not the least of which was just in meeting and marrying Relena. Truth was, he knew he could've reduced their entire life into an apartment the size of their little kitchen and still counted himself blessed beyond all reckoning.

Mostly, he added, suddenly glum.

The water shut off, and Relena opened the door, steam billowing out. She liked her showers extra hot; it was the only thing that could warm her up sometimes. He strolled into the bathroom, pausing to give her a quick kiss in gratitude; then it turned into something more, something deeper. She pulled back with a startled look.

"What was that for?"

"I just wanted to," Heero said, frowning. "That's okay, right? It's not like now we have to—"

"It's okay," she assured him, pressing a damp hand against his shirt. "It's always okay. Just that... you seem down. You had a good time tonight, right?"

Heero snorted, and looked away from her, towards the reflection of them in the doorway. Her lithe body, wrapped in a blue towel that brought out the blue of her eyes, and his slender shape, still toned even after years away from the military but never the muscular build of the men and women he'd had as team mates.

"Well," she whispered. "I wish I could help."

"You do enough," he said, then winced. "I didn't mean it like that. You do." He ran his hands down her arms, skin catching on damp skin and water drops. "Just... I feel like there's so little I can offer you, now. I just... " He closed his eyes, unable to meet her earnest gaze, and spoke in the barest whisper, a confession. "I really wanted to be a father."

"I know," she said, subdued. "Somehow, we'll be parents. I'm not going to lose this chance, but no matter what, I won't lose you."

"Relena... "

"Hush." She wrinkled her nose. "Take a shower, and then let's try again." Relena tugged at the corner of her towel, revealing a bit more skin. Her smile turned mischievous.

"Relena," Heero repeated, a bit sternly. It wasn't supposed to be fun; it was a duty. One he enjoyed and wanted to do as often as possible, but her expression didn't seem nearly as solemn as the suggestion warranted.

"What?" Her eyes were wide, a mocking innocent look, and then it faded, leaving behind an odd pensiveness. "Just that... tonight... that guy, Duo. The way he talked, some of the things he said—" Relena poked him in the chest, and Heero realized his expression must've gone sour. "—Stop sulking, I know he meant no harm, once I got used to it. Actually, it was rather flattering. But the way he talked, made it sound like sex is supposed to be... " She paused, frowning, as if seeking the right word. " ... _Fun_. Maybe we're missing something."

Heero wanted to protest, but then shrugged, unhappily. "I don't know. It's good, but I just feel like I could do better. Do more."

Relena sighed, and shoved lightly, pushing him into the bathroom. "Me, too," she murmured, as he shut the door.

 

 

 

Trowa loosened his tie, just a little, and then rolled up the sleeves of his work shirt. Not even ten-thirty in the morning, and two appointments down already. The break room was stifling, even with the window cracked; more than that and it'd be unbearable from the stench of trash and sewer rising from the city streets below. Sweat was turning his yellow-gray shirt into a clinging sheet that stuck to his skin, peeling off with a mildly sticky sensation when he moved. He flipped the folder open, glancing over the contents, not even looking up when the break room door opened.

"I hate Mondays," Dorothy announced. She slumped into the plastic seat across from Trowa; the chair creaked a warning. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. There were beads of sweat on her forehead, and even the normally crisp cravat at her neck seemed wilted. "You're doing the other half of the couple at ten-thirty, right?"

"Yeah." Trowa closed the file. "Just reviewing."

"Ever feel like you're just a government drone?"

"That's what we are," he replied, unperturbed.

Dorothy eyed the folder, and leaned back in her chair, pausing long enough to pull her hair out from behind her. "Maybe I should shave my head."

"Check with your clients first. Never know how many might secretly have a hair fetish."

She rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. Sometimes I think they'd do the same, if they saw someone else had the guts to do it first."

"Then they're drones, too," Trowa said, getting up. He checked his watch; the liquid display was dying, and he had to tilt it just right to see the time. "I have a feeling our next couple is early."

"Yeah, whatever, be there in a minute," Dorothy said, waving him away.

She didn't have the file with her, but he had no doubt she'd memorized it. She could do that easily, and sometimes it disturbed him, but truthfully he was equally skilled at that. It was just that he'd found having something that seemed official set first-time clients at ease.

The couple was waiting in the hallway, standing a few feet apart. Trowa looked over the woman – petite, feet shoulder-width apart, black hair caught in a ponytail but strands falling into her eyes. She seemed disheveled, but her clothes were neatly pressed, and her expression stern, if a bit on the sulky side. Her arms were crossed, and she was pointedly not looking at her husband. Trowa noted her husband was standing in almost an identical position, with a similar expression. The man's hair was pulled back in a matching ponytail, but slicked and neat. Trowa sighed internally, noting the red sashes around their waists and vaguely Asian cast to their features.

Great, he thought. An arranged marriage, I'd bet, and definitely newlyweds. The file had only said they'd been engaged since adolescence, but not married until both had finished their Masters' degrees. That was just icing on the cake; the academic background meant twice as much time spent introducing them to the real world, as far as Trowa was concerned. He nodded politely to the young woman, and faced the young man, who looked to be about Trowa's age.

"Mister Chang?"

"Wufei," the young man said, curtly. "Mister Chang is my grandfather."

Trowa noted the adjective on the word 'father', and recalled the lack of parental names in the file. He gave the young woman a half-smile. "Miss Catalonia will be with you shortly. Mister, err, Wufei," and he allowed the hesitation; his instincts told him toning down a knowledgeable attitude would reassure the young man. When Wufei's shoulders relaxed minutely, Trowa knew he was right. "This way, please," and opened one of the meeting room doors.

Inside, Wufei looked around at the small metal desk, the chair behind it, and the chair facing it. There were no windows; the vent overhead gave off a hum, white noise masking any conversation. Wufei frowned, and took the seat facing the desk. Trowa flipped open the file, studying it for a moment, giving Wufei a chance to study him in return. He was startled when Wufei cleared his throat.

"So... should I just take off my clothes now, or—"

"No," Trowa said, blinking. It wasn't often that someone was quite that business-like. Except Heero, but he was a special case; Trowa was amused to think there might be another like Heero in the city. "This is purely an interview. Should you decide not to sign on with me, the DPM will assign another companion, with whom you'll interview, and the process will continue until you find someone with whom you feel compatible."

Wufei snorted and crossed his arms. "I doubt that will happen."

"Oh?"

"I hardly need to be relieved of any sexual tensions." The sideways glance, under smoky eyelashes, was annoyed; Wufei most likely didn't realize just how handsomely seductive that movement was. "I've been just fine up to now, and I don't expect that to change."

"That's possible. Appointments are made when, and if, you feel the need," Trowa replied, keeping his voice calm. He closed the file and leaned back, clasping his hands in his lap. "However, you are newly married—"

"Not like I had say in the matter," Wufei grumbled, under his breath.

Trowa ignored the interruption. "And the DPM is aware of the dangers posed by such a situation."

"If that situation ever arises," and Wufei's tone indicated that he expected any sexual interaction to occur with his wife somewhere shortly after a non-existent hell froze over, "I've read plenty of books. There are other ways to have sex."

"Legally, no." Trowa allowed his lips to curl, just the slightest, at Wufei's puzzled glance. "According to Penal Code 567.19, section D, sex is defined as penetration of a man's penis into a woman's vagina. Anything else may be an intimate relation, but that's sex. What you're suggesting are simply intimate relations."

"If she doesn't get pregnant, that's what matters," Wufei muttered.

"True. However, I shall have to note on your file that you wish to pursue that alternative, and I will warn you that doing so means you will be observed very closely."

"How closely?" Wufei didn't move, but his mere tone bristled.

"Weekly appointments at the DPM, including interviews and pregnancy testing. I hope you realize the consequences should those tests reveal—"

Wufei stiffened, and looked away. His scowl was gone, replaced by a look of sadness, and almost fear. Trowa was relieved; it was good to see the man had at least enough heart to not want to put himself, let alone his wife, through that punishment.

"I see you do." Trowa was quiet, waiting to see if Wufei would say more. When he didn't, Trowa continued, implacable. He'd had enough experience being business-like about things that other people considered taboo. "If you choose this course, I am not here solely to assist with the need for physical outlets. Education and training are also part of my job. We can set up a preliminary appointment... " He flattened his tone, to the edge of boredom. " ...During which I will meet with both you and your wife, to instruct her in ways to pleasure you outside the act of sex. A corresponding meeting will be arranged with the female companion of your wife's choice."

Wufei's look was suddenly molten fire, angry and hostile; it was met and matched by a deep blush rising up across his face. He shifted in place, his arms crossing tighter, looking away.

"You would not be the first couple to choose this," Trowa said, impartially. "But the DPM requires that you be educated."

Sometimes, he complained to himself, I just wish I could find these people who don't think it necessary to teach their children, but leave it to government drones like me. Teaching the female half of a married couple was always awkward and draining, even if the couple left the appointment happy. Trowa still always felt like he was pushing some part of him too far deep, to make it through.

"I don't know what Meiran will choose," Wufei said, very quietly. His gaze was preoccupied, and he licked his lower lip several times before continuing. "If she chooses to see the... her companion, can I abstain?"

"No." Trowa shook his head. "The government is fully aware that for a relationship to work, a couple must be in agreement on major issues. Where to live, careers, big purchases like televisions," Trowa waved on hand, casually, as though ticking off a list on his fingers. "And sex is one of the biggest issues of all. To have one partner experience intimate relations while the other abstains produces resentment, longing, and pent-up emotions that are often violent when they explode."

Wufei sniffed. "I've been studying martial arts for seventeen years. I sincerely doubt anything will force my emotions that far over the top."

"Perhaps," Trowa allowed. "But it is still best that you never underestimate the power of physical lust."

"I see." Wufei appeared to consider Trowa's words for several minutes, then shifted in his chair. "Do I have to decide now?" He flushed again, a bit less, and didn't look Trowa in the eye. "Whether to... meet with you again, I mean. Or to abstain. Or to... " He stared down at his lap, suddenly looking much younger, confused, overlaid with a hint of anxiety.

"You have thirty-six hours," Trowa told him. "After that, your form goes into the system automatically, and the process for reversal is complicated. Should you wish to accept myself and-or your wife's companion, you may do nothing and the process will continue with us by default."

Wufei nodded, and stood. "Is there anything else?"

"Normally we would have a more in-depth discussion," Trowa explained, shrugging. "But if you are uncertain at this time, we can delay that until, or if, another appointment. Unless, of course, you have more questions for me?"

"No." Wufei turned to go, then stopped, not quite looking at Trowa over his shoulder. "When you... when you're _with_ someone, do you... " His words trailed off, and he turned away. His back was stiff, the straight lines of a young man trained from childhood to walk with squared shoulders and a dancer's grace.

"If you're asking whether the person matters to me?" Trowa stared at Wufei's back, coolly, suspecting Wufei could feel it from the way the young man tensed. "Sometimes. Do you care for those with whom you spar?"

"That's different," Wufei snapped.

"Is it?"

"Yes," Wufei replied, turning just enough to look over his shoulder at Trowa. His gaze turned inwards, softening, puzzled. "At least... I think it should be."

"I agree with you." Trowa didn't move when Wufei shot him a suspicious look. "And in fact, many of my long-term clients have become good friends, and in some rare cases, we do socialize outside of appointments. But that isn't for everyone. What happens, and how much, is dependent on your needs. I'm just here as part of the government's program to make sure those needs are met without risking you, your wife, or our policies."

Wufei nodded. "Thank you for your time, Mister Barton. I'll get back to you once I've had a chance to speak with my... " He paused, and the final word sounded almost strangled. " ...Wife." He left, pulling the office door quietly shut behind him.

That last tone would have been amusing, Trowa thought, yet another young man a bit shocked and confused by the new status of 'married' on his paperwork, but for the sadness hiding underneath. He debated noting that in his interview record, and the ambivalence with which the young man considered his new status, but decided against it. With the usual ill luck of bureaucracies, some peon facilitator up in central processing would see this as reason to assign the young couple to DPM therapy. And that was an intrusive and humiliating experience Trowa wouldn't wish on anyone if he could help it, let alone someone as proud, self-sufficient, and lonely as the young man who'd just left his office.

Trowa sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He had an interview report to write, and then he'd take a five-minute break. Hopefully Dorothy could cover for him while he stepped outside to call, away from the lead-lined buildings and listening ears of their employers. Hilde wasn't due to leave the city until mid-afternoon, and perhaps he could squeeze in a quick lunch with her and extend their goodbyes a little longer.

Then he had to meet with three clients; if he was done before the shops closed, he could pick up a little something to take to his sister's for dinner. He just wished he could take earplugs, so he wouldn't have to listen to her gripe about his career; as much as he loved her, it was sometimes unbearable to be handed job listings for positions that he knew would only be offered, in the end, to people who'd eventually support a family.

Heero had been right, Trowa thought, and smiled ruefully. Those damn military bastards and their drugs. But that was then, this was now, and he had paperwork to do.


	2. Chapter 2

_"condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp"_  
— Allen Ginsburg

 

 

Duo could smell Trowa, the faint musk of Trowa's cologne, wafting in the heated air. He didn't move, content to inhale the musty scent of stale cigarette smoke and sex and sweat that clung to Trowa's apartment, lurking under the sofa cushions and the cheap cork squares on the one low table by the sofa-bed. The lock clicked, tumblers rolling, clattering, and Trowa ghosted into the apartment. He was still for a moment, then shut the door behind him, falling against it as though exhausted.

"Get the hell out," Trowa intoned, flatly. "I've got company coming."

"Really." Duo studied his fingernails, and glanced up at Trowa from under his eyelashes.

Trowa snorted and removed his suit jacket, hanging it on a bare nail by the door. A minute later the tie and shirt were gone, revealing scar-ridden skin; Trowa wiped under his arms with the shirt, down his chest, and threw the shirt across the room, into the corner. Duo frowned, puzzled, too curious to keep his mouth shut.

"Good company or bad company?"

"It's... " Trowa's eyes narrowed, and Duo held up his hands, as if in surrender. Trowa shook his head, and toed off his nice shoes, leaving them by the door. "Just company. And I don't want you here when he gets here."

"Ooh, it's male," Duo replied, not budging from his spot on the sofa. He'd spent the previous two hours patting the cushion down, rearranging himself around the lumps and broken spring, until he was positioned quite comfortably. He didn't plan on moving until Trowa threw him out, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd made a quick acquaintance with the plaster across the hall from Trowa's door. It was something of a tradition.

"I'm serious, Duo," Trowa said, undoing the buttons on his pants. They fell down his hips, revealing mustard-gold boxers that might have once been orange, or perhaps red. Trowa kicked off the slacks, and threw them across the one room, after the shirt. He leaned over, removing his socks, and threw them into the pile as well.

"So am I." Duo's voice was quiet but deadly. He'd heard nothing of Trowa entertaining after work, other than Hilde. He doubted it could be something too serious, unless Trowa was so tired - or just tired of feeling guilty - that he'd let it slip. Either way, Duo saw no reason to move, and his smile told Trowa as much.

"It's... one of my former clients," Trowa said. He crossed to the one window, staring down at the dark street, four floors below. He popped the lock and slid the window half-open; the city air, stale and pungent, rushed into the apartment on a wave of heat and damp. "He... sometimes we hang out. Old time's sake. Hilde knows," he added, in a soft voice.

"She didn't mention it to me," Duo replied, unperturbed by the implication.

"You're not her keeper."

Duo shrugged. "Technicality." He raised his socked feet onto the sofa, clasping his arms around his shins, and grinned over his knees. "Maybe I just want some gossip to keep me company on my long trek home."

Trowa arched one eyebrow, and glanced down at the street again. His skin was office pale, scars in proud relief, one gash slicing across his chest just under his right nipple. He looked dangerous: a wounded animal, cornered, but not down. Duo tensed instinctively.

"Old client," Trowa said, in a dull, exhausted tone. "He married when he and I were eighteen. His wife fell ill a year later, seemed to recover... but when they won the lottery, the doctors discovered her illness had... " Trowa rolled one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, and leaned against the window. His face was reflected against the glass, faintly, superimposed on the dark office building across the avenue. "They had to divorce."

Duo sucked in his breath. "You people are animals," he hissed.

Trowa flinched, looking away. "You need to leave."

"Not yet. What happened to your friend?"

"Remarried." Trowa crossed his arms; the thumb of his left hand grazed across the scar on his chest, brushing over the crumpled, imperfect skin. He didn't seem to notice Duo's presence any longer. His gaze was fixed on the street below, every muscle tensed. "I introduced him to his second wife."

"Matchmaker, too. Do you also do windows?"

Trowa's look was pure venom, encased in an impassive expression. "Get out," he said, flat.

"I'm getting," Duo replied, unfolding his legs. He kept his tone amiable, but the small hairs on his forearms prickled. "Hilde told me your sister hates your career choice," he observed, digging his toes into his boots. He took his time lacing up the boots, wrapping the laces around his ankles twice and tying the knot at the back of his ankle. "I'm guessing she doesn't know you're also doing them on your own time?"

Trowa didn't reply.

Duo stood up, stretching. "Boy, I bet she'd skin you alive if she—"

Trowa was instantly in front of Duo, towering over him. "What are you going to do? Blackmail me?"

The difference in their heights wasn't that great, but to Duo it had always seemed as though Trowa's space could grow or shrink with his mood. Trowa was in a dark, disturbed temper; he somehow took up the entire apartment and slipped through the window to fill the city.

"Naw," Duo drawled, keeping his hands down and his expression open. He didn't look Trowa in the eyes, but stared at a point somewhere around Trowa's shoulder. Not a good time to challenge, he reminded himself. "I wouldn't do that, man," he added, and fell silent.

After a moment, Trowa stepped away, letting Duo pass. At the door, Duo paused, but Trowa shifted, and Duo knew his visit was over. He could hear an unfamiliar footstep outside the apartment, firm, confident, coming down the hallway; Duo's ears pricked up, noting the echo on linoleum tile. The footsteps ended, but not outside the door; perhaps some feet down the hall. Maybe a neighbor. Duo glanced back at Trowa, knowing he'd stalled too long, then opened the door.

A young man, about Trowa's age, stood in the hallway, one hand on his suit jacket, the other hand buried in a pocket. A clatter, rattle, and he brought out a set of keys. He was dressed to an elegant degree that was completely out of place for Trowa's neighborhood. The young man looked up to see Duo, and his eyes went wide. He stepped back slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, this... " He frowned, his light tenor trailing off as he stared at the door behind Duo. His eyes narrowed, and he tossed his head slightly; the white-blond strands, gently curling, fell immediately back into his eyes. "This is Trowa's apartment."

"Yeah," Duo said, stepping back, opening the door wider. "He's been expecting you."

"Ah." The young man didn't move, staring at Duo expectantly.

"I'm Duo." Duo managed a chuckle. "Maxwell. Pleased to meetcha."

"Pleasure's mine, Duo," the young man said, stepping through the door. He smiled at Trowa, but hesitated between the sofa and the pantry-kitchen. "Trowa?" The young man cut his eyes towards Duo and back again to Trowa, a question in the clear blue-green depths.

"He's cool," Trowa said, a clear warning in his tone. "He won't say anything."

"Ah." The young man smiled at Duo, a breathtaking expression, and moved to stand by Trowa. "You remembered," he breathed, and placed a hand on Trowa's chest, as though reassuring himself or perhaps staking his claim. His fingers were tanned, dark against Trowa's pale skin; perfect gold on battered silver.

"I... " Trowa blinked, and shook his head. "No, Quatre." It was only a whisper, but Duo caught the sound nonetheless, and parsed it into a word.

Cat, Duo thought, but that wasn't right. Too breathy, a hint of a second syllable. Perhaps something foreign, or one of those fancy made-up names the rich folks liked. He made a face, realizing he'd introduced himself and the man hadn't done the same courtesy in return. Usually he was the one making other folks wait to find out his name; Duo was irked to have the tables turned on him so neatly.

"Trowa... " Quatre's voice was a breathless whisper, hopeful.

Trowa sighed. He cupped Quatre's face in his hand, and Quatre laughed softly, pleased, his fingers playing with Trowa's nipple. "He's Hilde's brother," Trowa murmured, not looking Duo's way.

"You said he's cool," Quatre protested, frowning a little. "Is he—"

"No," Trowa replied, cutting off Quatre's question. "It's not that. It's just... " He shrugged, dropping his chin.

Duo wasn't sure what they were talking about, but he couldn't deny his curiosity. Never had, really; it was exacerbated by the fact that Quatre's reaction to his presence made Duo suspect something wasn't entirely legit. He hesitated, uncertain whether to stay or go; he halted when Quatre called out, a soft, cultured sweetness of cologne and champagne in the dirt and dark of Trowa's apartment.

"Stay," Quatre said, earnestly. His hands were running up and down Trowa's chest, then one hand slipped down into Trowa's boxers, movement under faded cloth became a quick jerking motion. Trowa groaned and turned his face away from Duo; he angled his body, but Quatre shifted him back again. "Watch," Quatre whispered, and it was somewhere between a command and a plea.

He looked at Duo from under his eyelashes, a hopeful look, almost sultry; his upper body remarkably still, a contrast to the sharp, curt motions of his hand in Trowa's boxers. Duo froze, then stepped back into the apartment, leaving the door purposefully open behind him. Trowa's eyes slipped closed; his body responded to Quatre's touch.

"Watch," Quatre repeated, stronger; challenging Duo to deny him.

Duo frowned, and glanced out into the open hallway. Suddenly he wished he hadn't been so ornery before, and delayed so long just to get a rise out of Trowa. But of course the damn bastard wouldn't just say he had a lover on the side with some kinky ideas - and of all things, Duo didn't want to watch his sister's guy do it with someone else. Anyone else.

Not the least of which was because - and Duo fought valiantly to squash the taunting voice - he'd never quite gotten over the fact that Hilde had won Trowa so easily. Duo had tried for a year and all he'd gotten was a smirk and a shrug. He tapped his fingers on the doorknob, pretending to consider the request carefully, and then shut the door behind him. Duo flipped the lock and turned, staring at the two men.

"Good," Quatre breathed at Duo's acquiescence, and stared into Trowa's pleasure-creased face. "I knew one day you'd let me," he whispered, he caressed Trowa's face, fingertips across skin, then into Trowa's mouth. "Suck," he ordered.

Duo shivered at the tone, and started to sink down. Something felt wrong, and he pulled his braid around to the front, cradling it protectively. He wanted to hunch in on himself; he noted absently that Trowa seemed to be doing the same, pivoting just enough that the hand in his boxers was half-hidden from Duo's view.

"No," Quatre said, turning to stare at Duo across the darkened room. "Stay where you can see us. I want you to see us," he hissed, softly. His eyes glimmered in the light through the window, masked by smoke and grime. The yellow taint made Quatre's face and hair seem to glow.

Duo crawled forward, curled against the wall facing the sofa. If he looked to the side, he could see both men clearly. His boots scraped loudly in the apartment's somnolent hush; Trowa turned his face away, shoulders tensed.

"Please, don't," Trowa whispered. "Why can't—"

"Let's not, then," Quatre said, removing his hand with a sigh.

Trowa whimpered deep in his throat; Duo would not have caught the sound but for his excellent hearing. Otherwise Trowa's expression was inscrutable.

"I'm sorry." Quatre glanced sideways, appearing to include Duo in the apology. Quatre crossed his arms, turning to stare out the window. "I just thought you'd finally—" He cut off his words with a shrug.

"But I do," Trowa interrupted. He sighed, and placed his hands on Quatre's chest, smoothing down the fine shirt, the dark suit coat. "Stay," he coaxed, and from the tilt of his head it wasn't clear whether he meant Quatre or Duo.

Quatre opened his mouth, but Trowa put a finger across his lips. Quatre raised an eyebrow, clearly startled, and didn't move. Trowa sank to his knees before Quatre, unzipping his pants, hands slipping inside. He brought out Quatre's cock, half-hard, and sucked it into his mouth without preamble or teasing. Quatre hissed again, and a small smile appeared on his lips. He placed one hand on Trowa's head, guiding the motions, and the other hand dropped to his side.

Duo sprawled his legs casually, hands braced on the floor beside him. He took a breath and relaxed his face into a careless smirk, as though he cared little for the view. The rich young man - for undoubtedly that´s what he was - must have so little risk in life, if having someone watch him mess around with a former companion was such a turn-on. Duo wasn't sure of the exact specifics - Hilde would probably know - but he was pretty sure seeing a companion after-hours was frowned on. Perhaps that was the source of Trowa's fear of blackmail; Duo filed the thought away and focused on the moment.

Duo let his gaze travel up Trowa's curved back, to the broad shoulders, down the muscled arms. He fought back the rising jealousy, studying the long-fingered hand caressing and scratching at Quatre's balls.

"Yeah," Quatre moaned, leaning against the window. "Trowa, your mouth is so... "

He trailed off, and raised his free hand to unbutton his shirt, pulling it open to reveal flawless skin, rippled muscles down to the still-belted pants. Quatre played with a nipple, his gaze on Duo, until Quatre's eyes closed in a haze of pleasure. He grunted, thrusting his hips suddenly, but Trowa rode with the action. Quatre froze, stomach caved in, chest heaving.

Trowa pulled back, and didn't even wipe his mouth. He came to his feet, his back to Duo, and pressed against Quatre, kissing him deeply. Quatre's hands moved to Trowa's hips, pushing down the boxers to reveal a tightly muscled, rounded ass above powerful thighs. Duo bit his lower lip, imagining pounding into that ass, and had to shift slightly.

Quatre's smile grew, watching over Trowa's shoulder. His fingers prodded Trowa's ass, pulling the cheeks wide, exposing Trowa. Duo bit back a pleased gasp and resituated himself. Trowa didn't notice or no longer cared, but the sight was bringing Duo's drives to the forefront. He unconsciously palmed his growing erection through his jeans.

"Yeah," Quatre whispered, the well-bred accent falling away. "Look," he murmured, and pressed a dry finger into Trowa's ass. It moved with an ease that indicated Trowa was already slick and well-prepared. "Mine," he mouthed.

Duo wanted to growl, but could only nod. Trowa tensed in Quatre's arms, then pushed back against the finger. Quatre laughed, nipping at Trowa's shoulder. A city streetlight flickered outside, illuminating the two men in stark contrast before fading back to the burning grayness. In the dull light of the oven's clock and the cable box's display, the men were amber and red, white and gold, their mouths pressed together as they rubbed, hips thrusting, soft moans filtered through lips and burning on skin.

Trowa twisted, facing the window, an offering. Quatre stepped behind him, half-blocking Trowa from Duo's view. Trowa's boxers were caught around his ankles but he made no move to remove them; Quatre was still fully dressed, but his cock was hard, pointing upwards in a scimitar curve, ready to slice Trowa apart. He stroked himself with one hand, running the other hand down Trowa's spine, and smiled again. Glancing back to make sure Duo was watching, Quatre held his cock, positioning it at Trowa's ass, before driving upwards in one thrust.

Duo bit back a groan, and unbuttoned his jeans, shoving his hand into his crotch. His cock leapt into his hand. He tightened his grip, imagining the muscles of Trowa's ass clenched around him.

Quatre made no noise, except for a moan between gritted teeth, and began to thrust into Trowa. His hands were tight on Trowa's hips; when he moved them, his handprint was whiter on Trowa's skin, paper-white, bleach-white, faint scars and lacerations jolted into life within the print, angry red under the pressure. Quatre leaned forward, one hand wrapping around Trowa's body; in the reflection on the window, Duo could see Quatre's hand wrapping possessively around a thick cock, pumping it in counter-time.

Trowa groaned and leaned back, his hips pushing against Quatre. His head lolled back to rest on Quatre's shoulder, hair falling into his face as he swayed. His hands were flat on the window. Duo wondered if any passed by, would they look up to see Trowa, lost, being unmercifully fucked, relentlessly dragged to a place where only he and his lover existed in that moment.

Duo stroked faster, timing his movements with Quatre's hand on Trowa's cock. He shut out the speculation of what it looked like when Trowa was buried hilt-deep in Hilde. He so didn't need to go there, not when he was so close, biting back his moans, his gaze fixed on Quatre's suit-clad body ramming against Trowa's bare ass.

No, his mind whispered, don't look away. This is what you want: someone's ass for you, only you - even as part of him recoiled from the humiliation of knowing that Quatre was getting off on his helpless lust. It made Duo want to rise to his feet, take back his actions, leave without a backwards glance, but his muscles had turned to jelly, rotten in the trash, skin become mold covering the surface. He recoiled in disgust at himself, but pumped faster, twisting dry, wanting the friction and pain to remind him he was only an observer.

Quatre threw back his head, gasping; Trowa gave a guttural groan, muscles corded on his arms, toes digging into the linoleum tile, entire body tensed. Trowa's cock jerked against the hold, shooting semen onto the window, spurting rapidly. Quatre thrust faster, hips pistoning. He didn't release his hold on Trowa's cock. Trowa moaned, writhing, pushing backwards. Quatre's hand clawed at Trowa's hip, five thrusts, six; Duo had to close his eyes, vision blanked by the sudden rush of heat into his groin. He cupped the end of his cock with a hand to catch his own fluids, and bit his lip to stifle his sigh of release.

There was a second cry, softer than Trowa's, falling to a low whine. Duo opened his eyes to see Quatre leaning against Trowa, arms around Trowa's waist.

Duo stared down at the jism in his hand and wrinkled his nose. Annoyed, he looked around for something to wipe his hand on, and saw Trowa's pile of dirty clothes. Scooting quietly along the wall, supporting himself one-handed, he grabbed a sock and wiped off his hand.

"Throw something this way," Quatre asked. Duo found himself picking out a shirt and tossing it towards the window.

Trowa chuckled, murmuring something too low for even Duo to hear. Quatre caught the shirt one-handed, awkwardly, and slowly pulled out with a whispered apology. Duo was startled to see Quatre cleaning Trowa, quite tenderly, and then cleaning himself, before leaning around Trowa to wipe the window as well. Then he turned, tossing the shirt back onto the pile. He tucked his cock away, zipping up his pants, while Trowa pulled up his boxers with a frown.

"Thanks," Quatre told Duo, and his eyes were shining. "I've always wanted... " He shrugged, and suddenly looked much shyer and considerably younger, less self-assured.

Duo started to speak, opened his mouth, and closed it. He really had no idea what to say.

Trowa chuckled again, and shook his head. His mood seemed lighter, as though perhaps he'd come to terms with Duo's presence and put it out of his mind. Or, Duo pondered, perhaps for that time, he simply had not existed for Trowa; only Quatre had. Duo frowned, uncertain.

"Never thought I'd see him speechless," Trowa told Quatre. He kissed Quatre quickly on the cheek, a hand trailed across Quatre's arm, and he moved to the small pantry-kitchen along one wall. "Got time for a beer?"

"Yeah. Cathy's decided the ratio is an hour per beer," Quatre said. "And we're allowed two beers, so... " He checked his watch with a wry look. "One more beer. And maybe I can talk you into working on her some more? She gave the nanny the night off, again, as soon as you'd left." His annoyed tone told Duo this was a common occurrence, though Duo wasn't entirely sure of the specifics.

"Just because she's good at guilt doesn't mean I inherited the skill, too," Trowa replied. "Maybe she likes dealing with Ariel." He handed Quatre a beer, and opened one for himself. Raising the bottle halfway to his mouth, he halted, and turned to stare at Duo, his gaze assessing. "Well, Duo."

"Yeah, Trowa." Duo stood up, still a bit shaky. He dug a grin out of somewhere and plastered it on his face, surprised to see Quatre respond in kind, a delighted expression. "It was real."

"Real," Quatre repeated, and flushed. Once again it looked remarkably out of place on his adult features. "It was. Thank for not leaving. I just... " He shrugged and stared down at the cheap beer in his hand. "I get tired of always doing the proper thing. I've always wanted to... " He waved the beer in his hand, towards the window.

"I get it," Duo said, and in some way, he did. He wasn't sure how he felt about being part of one rich boy's wish to be a little wild, but he couldn't complain too much. He'd come, after all, even if only by his own hand. He shrugged, and flipped his braid over his shoulder. "Gotta jet, man. I'll see you in two weeks."

"You changing schedules?" Trowa raised an eyebrow, twitched his head until the hair fell out of his eyes. Quatre looked confused, but Trowa didn't appear to notice.

"Yeah." Duo threw the deadbolt, and put his hand on the doorknob. "Hilde's not, if that's what you're wondering."

Trowa nodded; clearly he had been. Twice a month would be preferable over once, but it had been Duo's choice to make the jump to a different pattern, not Hilde's. She wasn't willing to put up with the drawbacks, but then, Duo reflected, she wouldn't have put up with being ordered to watch someone else fuck a person she'd once desired, either.

My cock does nothing but get me in trouble, Duo lamented, and slipped from the apartment. The door swung shut behind him and he could hear the faint clink of a beer bottle set down, the wet noises of deep kisses and groans. He considered plugging his ears with his fingers, but settled for shoving his hands into his jeans pockets and striding down the hallway, putting as much distance between himself and that apartment but looking casual about it.

He was quite sure if anyone had a nose half as good as his, they'd know just how much he was faking it.

 

 

 

He caught her scent at forty-fifth northwest and east W, and lost it halfway down the block. Backtracking, Duo stared up at the elegant sign for the underground mall, noting the expensive stores. He half-shrugged to himself; he was bored, with time to kill before he had to leave the city. Pushing open the tall glass doors, Duo followed the few other mid-day foot traffic down the broad escalators, sniffing cautiously until he picked up the traces of her shampoo, a bit of deodorant, maybe some laundry detergent. Mixed together, it was undeniably she, standing at the window to a gift shop, staring down at something in the window with a soft, sorrowful look.

She was married to one of Trowa's clients; she'd even seemed to like Trowa quite well. Duo had been surprised; he would have expected her to detest Trowa, or at least resent him. The client, his wife, the companion and his lover: it sounded like a bad soap opera to Duo.

"Mrs. Yuy," Duo said, coming up alongside her. She jumped, blinking at him a few times, then a smile grew across her face so wide he couldn't help but grin sheepishly. "Hey. You're shopping?"

"For Heero," she said, and put a finger to her lips, as though promising him to secrecy. Duo nodded, solemn, and immediately Relena's smile was back. Two men in dark suits stepped closer, and she pouted at them, waving them away. "You two, relax," she chided them, and if two grown men with radios in their ears and dark glasses could look like reprimanded little boys, they managed it. "This is Mister Maxwell. He's a... friend," she said, giving him a hesitant look.

"And I thought we were on a first name basis," he replied, dissembling hurt. "We've got mutual friends," he told the two men. They stared him up and down, then nodded to each other and backed away, disappearing into the crowds in the underground avenue.

"You started it," she said, tossing her head with a little pout. "Calling me Mrs. Yuy."

"You are, aren't you?" Duo crossed his arms and leaned against the glass, looking sideways at the knick-knacks displayed in the window. "So... you're planning on getting your husband a ceramic fairy?"

Relena flushed, and made a face. "No. Maybe I would. If I thought it would surprise him." She shrugged and turned, heading down the walkway, walking slowly enough to note the shops but making no signs of entering any. "He's at his appointment right now, so I figured I could slip away and get some errands done."

"I'd suggest a tie. Heero works in an office, right?"

"Technically," Relena said, laughing brightly. "He's my head of security."

"Oh." Duo stepped back, eyeing her up and down. "Should I be in fear of my life if I hang out with you?"

"Only from Heero." She winked and slipped her arm through Duo's; he stiffened at the familiar touch, then relaxed into it. Relena giggled, a girlish affectation that didn't seem out of place, suddenly. "But he's met you, so you needn't worry. He liked you."

"He did?" Duo scratched the back of his head. "Could've fooled me."

"He's a professional meanie," Relena whispered, then jerked Duo to a stop. "Oh, here's one of my errands." They were standing in front of a pharmacy, shelves displaying the usual candies, cheap toys, and office supplies. "I have to get a prescription filled."

Duo followed her in, chatting with her about the weather, her job as head of the Peacecraft Conflict Resolution Organization, and her parental leave while she and Heero took their turn at becoming parents. He noted a tension in her voice and shifted the conversation away from children, onto television shows and books. She admitted she rarely had time to watch television, as she dug out a cord from around her neck, skimming it over the sensor-pad. She punched in her personal code, accepted the bag of medicines, and they left the shop.

"You haven't gone with an insert?" Duo nodded towards the small tag, about the size of military dog tags, rimmed in pink plastic. Relena was dropping it under the neck of her slim cream-colored blouse - silk, if he was any judge, and possibly quite old, as well. "And pink. That's stylish."

Relena rolled her eyes. "No, that's Heero. My husband has this thing about me not liking pink." She tucked the bag into her purse, and slipped her arm through Duo's again. "So whenever he can, he gets me little things in pink. Like the tag-rim. He found this place that made them so families could identify the parent's tag from their kid's, and naturally... "

"I think you like it," Duo teased.

"Maybe, but don't tell him that," Relena said, then sighed. "Heero has the insert." She waved her free hand, finger pressed against the fleshy pad of her thumb where a sub-epidermal tag would be surgically inserted. "He's former military," as if that explained it all. "But I... " She glanced around, smiling absently to the two men in black suits still shadowing them, and leaned close to whisper in Duo's ear. "Sometimes I like to take mine off and pretend I'm anyone I want to be."

"Ah." Duo smiled down at her - she was only two inches or so shorter, he noted - and squeezed her hand. "You're a rebel." Relena suddenly looked sad, dropping her eyes. Duo frowned, confused, and was quiet for several paces, until he noticed a sports shop up ahead. "How about in there? Might be something your husband would like," he said, jerking his head in the shop's direction. "Maybe a knife, or some of those insulated socks that heat up on their own?"

"His feet do get cold in winter," Relena said, a bit doubtfully.

"Let's check it out, if you've got time," Duo replied, and Relena laughed, following him in.

The entire spree took only ten minutes; Relena turned out to be a woman who didn't care for dallying over every little item. She grilled Duo thoroughly on his knowledge of knives, which was considerable, he knew, but she didn't blink. She narrowed it down to three choices, eyed each, listened to his suggestions, considered the prices, and carefully picked the one she wanted. The clerk wrapped the knife and holster, and Relena accepted the bag with an embarrassed but pleased smile.

"So how long until your husband's appointment is over?" Duo wondered what it was for, but Relena hadn't said, and he didn't want to offend her. "Got time for more shopping, or should you be heading back?"

"He'll call," she replied, looking around at the shops. "I don't often get to shop, actually. I never really have time, and Heero always gets a little paranoid in places like these."

"I imagine," Duo said, remembering Saturday night. Heero hadn't exactly given off the vibes of a man who relaxed easily in any area that he hadn't scoped out six times and knew all exits were covered. Even with a few drinks in him, he'd seemed utterly in control; Duo had been intrigued at the notion of what it'd take to reduce a man like that to a ball of quivering, begging, sexual tension. Once he might've done the work to find out, but this was a couple obviously dedicated to each other. Even he wouldn't be so stupid as to intrude on that; he squashed his instincts, strictly reminding himself to stay out of it, even if his gut said they should know.

He yanked his attention back to Relena, realizing they'd stopped outside a women's fashion store.

"I just don't really need any of this stuff," Relena said. "My organization has a sponsor who buys a new pair of shoes every month." She winked at Duo, a bit awkwardly, but it was a charming attempt nonetheless. "I can't see why. I only have two feet."

"Hm, then perhaps... " Duo looked through the window, at the counter in the middle of the store. He grinned, and snagged Relena by the arm. "Come with me, Mrs. Yuy!"

"I'm Relena," she protested, but laughed, letting herself be dragged along. She waved over her shoulder to the goons in black, letting them know it was only fun. Inside the store, she came to a halt in front of the counter and looked around at the little bottles. "Okay. What's this for?"

"Perfume," Duo said. "Chicks dig perfume."

Relena arched an eyebrow.

"You were wearing a leather skirt when I met you," Duo pointed out. He leaned over, checking out her legs, and leered. "A lot shorter than that lovely peach number, I might add."

"I didn't hear you complaining," she shot right back, and pretended to fiddle with several of the perfume bottles. She studied the label, gave Duo a bewildered look, and sprayed it onto her wrist. Sniffing it, she shook her head. "I like the scent... but I have no idea what it is."

Duo could smell it easily, across the short distance between them. It made his nose itch, but he did his best not to sneeze. "It's new-mown hay, Relena-girl."

"New what?"

"Hay." Duo laughed. "Like... wild grass."

"Why would someone want wild grass on their wrist?" She scrubbed furiously at her wrist with a tissue. "What's this one... . Rain?" She made a face. "Oh, that's disgusting."

"No, wait," Duo said, catching the bottle before she set it back. He sprayed a bit onto a tissue, and burst into a smile. "No, this really is what rain smells like, a little. Here."

She sniffed dutifully. "Oh. That's... I like that. That's rain?"

"Yeah." Duo leaned against the counter, enjoying her surprised expression, the hint of pleasure. Mostly, he was liking that he was the one to put that look there.

"I want this one." Relena waved over one of the clerks. "Is there... a really small bottle of this? Like a sampler?"

"I think so," the clerk girl replied. "I'll go check."

"I hope I can afford it," she whispered, low enough that he suspected she hadn't meant to say it out loud. She put the sampler bottle back with a shy smile. "So... how do you know what real rain smells like?"

"Oh, I get around," Duo teased, putting on an air of smug self-confidence. "I travel between cities."

"Really?" Her eyes went wide, and she barely noticed the clerk returning with the sampler bottle. Relena paid, tucked the little bottle into her purse, but had an air of impatient curiosity the whole time. Once they were alone, she stepped close to Duo, again giving the impression that she didn't want anyone to overhear her questions. "What's it like? In other cities?"

"Same as this one, mostly," Duo replied, laughing. "Might be a different language and a few different laws, but it's still people, subways, jobs, grocery stores. Same everywhere... mostly."

"Mostly," Relena said, catching his mumbled addendum. She didn't question it, but instead grilled him about New Tokyo and New Beijing. "I've always wanted to see the skyscrapers. I hear for special events they light them at night. They're supposed to be gorgeous."

"I guess," Duo said, then relented. "Next time I head that way, I'll get you a souvenir. Then you can at least tell people you know someone who's been there."

"Would you?" Relena's smile went from startled to amazed in nothing flat, and the next thing he knew, she was hugging him tightly. She broke away, grinning, a faint pink suffusing her cheeks. "Sorry! I got carried away. But New Beijing! New Tokyo! And New Angela, too?"

"New Angela," Duo nodded, miming checking off a list. "I'll notify my social secretary to put it on my itinerary."

Relena made a face and poked him in the arm. "Oh, you. You always tease me."

"Do not," Duo replied, amiable. "Haven't known you long enough for it to be an 'always'," he pointed out. "Besides, when I promise, I follow through."

"Good." Relena beamed, and swung the arm holding her purchases. "I like having something to look forward to." Her smile turned sad for a moment, but then she brightened. "So what do you do, that you travel?"

"Jack of all trades."

"A what?" Relena gave him an annoyed look. "No, really."

"I'm a mechanic," Duo said, and chuckled at her surprised look. "I specialize in antique engines."

"Wow." She pondered that for a moment. "My dishwasher's been making a strange noise."

Duo threw his head back and laughed, then lowered his chin to grin widely at her. "How did I know that was coming?"

"Why?" Relena did her best to look innocent. "You get asked that a lot?"

"Maybe. How often do you get asked... " He ran his gaze down her body: the hint of a lacy bra at the edge of her blouse's wide collar, the almost girlish breasts, the slim waist and hips hiding under elegant and conservative blouse and skirt. Duo leaned over to whisper in her ear, his voice low and husky. "Any chance you happen to be wearing garters?"

Her mouth dropped open, then she paused, narrowing her eyes. She pulled herself upright, and did her best to sashay, just a little. She glanced at Duo sideways, under her eyelashes. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know." It wasn't quite sultry, but pretty good for what was probably a first try.

Duo chuckled. He was tempted to be honest: hell yeah. But it was best to let her enjoy her moment of rebellion. He thought back to Trowa's friend, seeking something wild, something different, outside the everyday things. Duo had felt vaguely used, and it had taken the night to shake it off; he could have replaced himself with a cardboard cut-out and Trowa's friend might not have really cared, so long as someone's eyes were watching. But with Relena, he was most definitely the impetus in this conversation. He realized she must feel safe with him, for some peculiar reason, and he wasn't sure whether to be dismayed or flattered.

"Come on," he finally said, taking her by the arm. "Let's get you back to your husband before I'm tempted into making a dishonest woman of you."

"Really!" She laughed, and he realized she didn't know what he meant. He covered his surprise by chuckling as well, but filed it away in his mind.

He'd have a great deal to think about on his upcoming trip, assuming he didn't change his mind and stick around to see what else he could discover. It was rare that city people would intrigue him so, but he'd never been one to walk away from the challenge of fixing and keeping a new toy.

Or two.


	3. Chapter 3

_"the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision_ "  
— Allen Ginsburg

 

 

Dorothy opened the meeting room door, surprise etched only briefly on her face before her inscrutable mask once again settled over her features. She stepped inside to greet her two o'clock appointment.

"This is unexpected, Ms. Relena," she said, in that cultured voice of hers that implied nothing but carried so much meaning. Dorothy closed the door and locked it, then strolled to the bed, slender hips swaying: the shift of her weight was a promise.

"It's not working," Relena replied. She was dressed in the soft blue robe Heero had given her a year or two before; a faux silk that whispered across her skin. The cuff was fraying; she pulled at a thread, and swallowed hard. Everything would unravel in the dirt and the noise, the city's pressing weight on her shoulders. "When we... " She shook her head.

"Please," Dorothy said, mildly exasperated. The bedsprings creaked; she settled next to Relena, and her slim fingers - manicured with glistening red on short square nails - plucked at the edges of the robe to reveal Relena's pale thighs. "You've told me in explicit language what you want, and now you lose your voice?"

"I wasn't that explicit." Relena frowned.

"Want me to quote you?" Dorothy leaned over, whispering in Relena's ear, and one finger trailed the line between Relena's thighs, up to her hips to brush over the soft coppery-golden curls. "Please, fuck me, deep, fuck me, don't stop, please don't stop, for the love of god...  _fuck me_... "

Relena squirmed, partly from the teasing tone, and partly because Dorothy's finger had slid down to press against her clit. Dorothy's palm settled against her mound, cupping her, but her fingers didn't move. Relena had to fight the urge to buck her hips into Dorothy's hand.

"That's right," Dorothy said, and chuckled. Her finger twitched, and Relena gasped. "So tell me. What isn't working?"

"Heero... and me," Relena said, letting her eyes drift closed. Dorothy's free arm snaked around her to pull the robe open; a disembodied hand cupped her breast, thumb across her nipple. "It's like... it's not like I expected. I only come once, if at all, and then he just climbs on top and... " She shrugged, shivering when the movement made her breast rub against Dorothy's hand. Hot breath on her neck, fingers slipping down farther, pushing her legs apart. "It's good! It is, but it's just not... "

"As good as it can be," Dorothy observed. She withdrew her hands, sucking delicately on her finger. Relena opened her eyes to see Dorothy's wicked smile, and Dorothy smacked her lips. "I love the way you taste. Does Heero?"

"I... I don't know." Relena sighed. "He's not very good at it. I know he tries, but I just get frustrated and—"

"You're not faking it, are you?" Dorothy's gaze was sharp. "That's the kiss of death. How will he get better if you're lying to him?"

"I'm not lying to him!" Relena crossed her arms; her clit was throbbing from Dorothy's touch, and her stomach flip-flopped at the deprivation. Her skin crawled when the robe brushed her skin with her movements. "It's just that it's... I don't know."

"You need to tell him what you want." Dorothy moved away, and was suddenly back, straddling Relena and pressing her into the mattress. Dorothy's long hair fell around them, a curtain blocking out the water-stained ceiling, the bland sheets, the reproduction print in a plastic faux-gold frame screwed to the wall over the bed. "You've been lazy, Ms. Relena," she chided. "I can make you scream, but you've never done it yourself. You can't expect him to be an expert in your body if you bloody well won't bother to be one yourself."

She grabbed Relena's hand, digging her short fingernails cruelly into the tender underside of the wrist, ignoring Relena's whimper. Dorothy shifted, falling sideways. She forced Relena's hand down between her thighs. Dorothy let go, and leaned on her elbow, resting her head on her fist.

"Don't remove your hand," Dorothy said, "or I'll tie you up again and this time it won't be fun for you. Maybe me, but not you."

Relena knew her eyes had just widened; Dorothy's low chuckle was both pleased and excited.

"Or maybe you should," Dorothy purred. "Now... " She drew circles around Relena's nearest nipple, crimson fingernail barely scratching at the white skin. "Make yourself come. Do it, Relena... fuck yourself."

"You're watching," Relena breathed, not sure why she was suddenly so embarrassed.

"Imagine I'm Heero," came the suggestion.

Relena snorted. "Yeah, fat chance of that." She got a sharp look for the comment, and dutifully began to press her fingers between her labia, wiggling fingertips in the way that Dorothy often did. It felt good, if warm, and a bit sticky, but within a few seconds of pushing her fingers against her crotch, her arm was starting to ache, muscles cramping. She sighed, letting her arm rest across her body. Dorothy responded by pinching her nipple, and Relena yelped.

"Don't stop," Dorothy urged. "You're using fingers, but it's your entire body. I'd think you know this. Rock your hips up to your fingers." She rolled her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you've expected Heero to do all the work?"

Relena flushed; her face was hot, an unbelievable thing, given that she could feel the prickles across her face, chest, stomach that indicated a full-body blush. Dorothy shook her head and ran a finger down Relena's arm to pat Relena's hand.

"Keep going," Dorothy said. "We're going to stay here until you do it yourself. And then you're going to go home and do it in front of Heero."

"What the—" Relena started to sit up, shocked. "I couldn't—"

"You can, and you will," Dorothy barked, and shoved Relena back onto the mattress with one hand. The springs creaked at Relena's bounce, and the next thing Relena knew, her hand was shoved between her legs, her fingers guided down further, then pushed up into her. "Wet," Dorothy said, satisfied. "Use it. If you don't, you'll just be dry. Chafing is bad, Ms. Relena."

"You're enjoying this too much," Relena grumbled.

Obediently she began moving her hand back and forth across her clit, experimenting. Little shivers ran across her stomach, up her legs, and she rocked her hips up to meet her hand. Her eyes closed, blocking the image of the cracked plaster on the ceiling, and Dorothy's satisfied, heavy-lidded stare. The shivers were building into shudders, her arm jerking wildly. Relena pressed all four fingers against her crotch, bearing down as her hips thrust upwards, and tensed her entire body. Throwing her head back, she gasped for air, hips moving of their own accord and fire licked up her spine. In its wake she felt dizzy and startled; her skin was hot, clammy, sensitive.

"I enjoy all pleasure," Dorothy said. "That's why I'm good at what I do. But I suspect you still enjoyed that more." She put a hand on Relena's wrist, holding it in place. "Now, you're going to do it again."

"Again? But I—"

"I'm perfectly aware you're capable of coming twenty times in an hour." Dorothy's tone was dry. "Consider it practice for when you get home, and show that handsome man of yours."

"But I don't want him... " Relena frowned, not sure how to put it. Dorothy arched an eyebrow, and Relena could only sigh. "I don't want him thinking he's not doing it right."

"Good God, woman," Dorothy groaned. "Four years and where the fuck did this shit come from? The last thing he'll be thinking is whether you're passing judgment on him. In fact, you'll be lucky if he's capable of thinking. Tell you what. You come... five more times, and we'll figure out a plan."

"Five more... " Relena made a face. "You want me to write out a hundred times, I promise to fuck myself daily, while I'm at it?"

"Don't tempt me," Dorothy said, and chuckled. "Now... let's hear you make those lovely little squeaking sounds again."

 

 

 

Relena smoothed down her hair, took a deep breath, and pushed through the double doors to the waiting room. Crayton was waiting with her bag.

"Where's Jackson?" Relena gave Crayton a quick smile. She slung her purse over her shoulder and looked around.

"Family emergency, ma'am." Crayton had a gravely voice that sounded like he'd drunk too much cheap whiskey as a youth; his face was lined and worn but he could fight like nobody's business. He gave Relena an abashed look and beckoned her to a chair. "I've already spoken to Mr. Yuy. The security planning on next month's conference is running over, and he's sending Wong as a replacement. It will probably be another twenty minutes, however. Traffic's bad on the city circular. Train wreck, I hear."

"Oh, that's horrible," Relena said, automatically. She checked her watch, and made a face. "I needed to do grocery shopping on the way home. If we wait, we will probably get there right at the evening rush. Could you please call Mr. Wong and tell him not to bother?"

"Ma'am," Crayton said, in a disapproving tone. "Mr. Yuy said—"

"I'm sure I can quote chapter and verse on what  _Mr. Yuy_  said," Relena retorted airily, already striding towards the exit. "But I'm  _Mrs. Yuy_ , and I say I want to leave now. We'll catch a taxi, instead. Is that safe enough?"

Crayton sighed heavily and pulled out his phone as they stepped into the city's mid-day heat. Within seconds Relena could feel her conservative tank-top drooping, and her hair felt heavy and damp on the back of her neck. Crayton towered over her, waving down the passing taxis. When one stopped, he opened the door and helped her inside. The seats were pressed plastic; a ripped seam scratched her calf. The interior smelled like sweat and sex and cigarette smoke; Relena had to stifle a cough. Crayton gave direction to the Yuy's apartment building, twenty blocks away, and the taxi driver nodded with a bored expression before pulling away from the curb.

Not more than ten feet down the road, the taxi slammed on its brakes with a loud screech. The driver cursed, jumping from the car. Instinctively Relena got out as well, ignoring Crayton's command to stay in the car.

"Holy Mother Mita of Zhensa," the driver was saying. He backed into Relena, and twisted in place, his swarthy skin pale and sweating. "Sorry, ma'am, I mean, it's okay, just get back in the cab—"

"What is it?" Relena peered past the man. On the ground in front of the cab was what looked like a man covered completely by a fur coat. Relena gasped and sidestepped the cabdriver's attempt to hold her back. Coming around the nose of the taxi, she stared down in shock. "It's... it's a dog," she whispered.

Crayton appeared on the other side, his hands out. "Ma'am, back away. If it's been injured, it might attack."

The dog chose that moment to look up at Relena, and its tail wagged. It struggled to its feet, and Relena fell back several steps with a startled cry.

The damn thing was taller than the cab's hood, a great beast of a dog, with thick black fur all over but for a white spot at the chest. A streak of coppery-brown fur ran from between its ears, down its spine, and into a massive curling tail that was waving slightly. The dog whined softly, and held up its left paw, then limped forward.

"It's hurt," Relena said, and looked at the cab driver. "You hit the dog!"

"It came out of nowhere!" The cabdriver had his door open, and was keeping it between him and the dog. "Ma'am, you really need to step away, and slowly. Don't make any sudden moves. It could be—"

The dog limped forward again, and placed its head against Relena's stomach. It didn't bite, but simply leaned, and she found herself putting a hand on its head. Its fur was softer than she'd expected, strands almost as long as her fingers, and she absently stroked its ears while she stared down the driver.

"It doesn't look dangerous to me," she informed the driver. "But it's clearly hurt. We'll need to—"

"No way!" The driver shook his head, belligerence setting in. "That thing is not going in my cab!"

"But we need to get it to a—"

The driver slid behind the wheel and slammed his door shut. Backing up with a scowl, he pulled out around her and tore off into mid-day traffic. She watched, stunned, then turned to stare at Crayton.

"Ma'am," he finally said, "we should get out of the street."

Relena nodded, dumbfounded, and followed Crayton to the curb. The dog turned, following, and she was startled by its grace despite its size. It had an awkward look about it, as though the front legs were a bit shorter than expected; it bounced slightly with each step, its large jaws opening to reveal a long pink tongue that lolled out of the corner of its mouth.

"I bet it's thirsty," she mused.

"Ma'am, you can't be serious." Crayton put his hands on his hips. "Mr. Yuy—"

"I don't want to hear it," Relena snapped. "Mr. Yuy can go put his head in a bucket of ice water for all I care right now. The dog is injured and the least I can do is make sure it's okay. What if someone is looking for it? What if it ran away?"

"It's not wearing a collar," Crayton pointed out. "And there's no way a dog that size meets the City statutes."

"Well, maybe it's a visitor's dog," she said, eyeing the dog doubtfully. It cocked its head at her, and waved its tail again. When she didn't move, it held its left paw up a little higher. She sighed. "Okay. I'm going to take it home and figure out what to do then. One night isn't a problem, and then in the morning I can talk to Central and find out who's in charge of lost dogs."

"Take it home?" Crayton looked like he'd swallowed a spider. "Ma'am, no cab in this city will give you a ride. It'll need a cab just for itself. Look at the size of it!"

"My eyes work just fine," Relena said, crisply. "Now, come on."

"It's not your eyes I'm worried about." Crayton's worried expression made the lines around his mouth even deeper. "Ma'am, it's twenty blocks."

"I know where I live." She straightened her purse on her shoulder and began walking. She wasn't surprised, somehow, when the dog fell into step - if limping slightly - at her left hip. The top of its head was just under her elbow, and its rough panting was in time with her shoes on the sidewalk. "Come on, Crayton," she called over her shoulder. "Unless you want to stay there and explain to Mr. Yuy—"

"Ma'am!" Crayton caught up to walk on her other side.

"Didn't think so," Relena murmured under her breath.

 

 

 

Ten blocks, and the government and office buildings gave way as they entered the business district. Relena chose to skirt the main thoroughfare and take a side street; already several people had seen them coming with the huge dog and crossed to the other side of the street. She was almost amused at the sight of people trying to run without being too obvious, if it weren't for the fact that her heart was pounding fast enough to make her dizzy. At a bus stop, Crayton caught her by the elbow and guided her to the bench.

"Ma'am, you need to sit down. Ten minutes, and then we'll go." He looked around, spying a convenience store across the street. "I'm going to get you some water. Do you need sugar, too? Let me check your pulse."

Relena considered arguing, but he'd more than patient with her so far. She waited while Crayton measured her pulse, then pressed a small sensor to her wrist. He sighed, and stood up.

"Don't you move, Mrs. Yuy, or I won't wait until Mr. Yuy skins you alive, because I'll do it myself," he informed her sternly. "That's the highest you've been in six months. Stay in this shade, and we're going to keep walking only if your rating has dropped to half. Clear?"

"Clear, Crayton." Relena watched Crayton cross the street, weaving through traffic, to disappear into the store. She turned to the big dog with a sigh, and slumped over. Almost instantly the dog was under her, and she was halfway across the dog's shoulders. She buried her face in its neck; it smelled of something sweet, like her new perfume, she mused. Digging her fingers into its fur, she sighed.

The dog whined, shifting under her.

"Sorry," she said, and scratched it on the white spot, on its chest. "Don't mind Crayton. He gets protective. I'll be fine. We just need to walk slower, but... I've never had a dog."

She felt a little silly talking to the dog, but it wasn't like the dog was going to laugh, and everyone else on the sidewalk was too busy keeping as far away as possible. No one was close enough to overhear. Relena sat up, feeling her heart slowly calm, and petted the dog's head. It had a short snout, with a square-shaped head and long-furred ears that flopped over.

"Hey, maybe you can be practice for when I have a kid. Something to take care of... " The dog sat down on the pavement, then stretched out before her, right across her feet. She giggled. "Get off my feet," she ordered the dog. "I'm not going to go anywhere." The dog chuffed, and she tried to move her right foot. "Hey, you're heavy."

"Ma'am?"

Relena looked up to see a police officer standing in front of her. He was carrying a small box tucked under one arm, and pulling out a touch-screen from his breast pocket.

"That your dog?" He glanced down at the black dog, and back at Relena.

"Not really," she said, pushing her sweaty bangs out of her face. "I'm just... well, I think he's a runaway. I figured I'd keep him for the night until I can find out where to take him in the morning."

"He should be wearing a collar and city tags," the officer replied. He leaned over the dog, holding the box above its head. A thin red line appeared on the dog's fur, moving down the dog's spine. The officer swept the box down the length of the dog's spine and stood with a frown. "At least it's not one of them illegal dogs," he noted, and put the box away. "However, it doesn't have a collar or tags. Your ID, please."

"Yes, sir. But it's not my dog, officer." She sat up straight and handed him the card from around her neck, trying to look like a contributing member of society, someone worth taking seriously. "I'm Mrs. Yuy, of the Peacecraft Organization. I was just—"

"Peacecraft, yeah, heard of them," the officer said, and it didn't sound like he was listening; too busy jotting something on the touch-pad in his hand. He slid the card into the reader, then handed it back to her. "Buncha peace-nik busybodies." The touch-pad churned out a slip of paper, and the officer handed it over. "That's your citation. Should you choose to pay, you can mail it in, or you can appeal at Central Domestic Processing on the date indicated."

"Pay... for what?" Relena blinked up at him, the printout limp in her hand.

"Mrs. Yuy?" Crayton appeared behind the officer. "Here's your water. Is there something wrong, officer?"

"Dog's got no tags."

"Ah, yes, we're taking him to—"

"And no leash, either." The officer tucked the touch-pad away and fixed his gaze on Crayton. "You must be Mr. Yuy. You've got three choices." He continued in a flat, bored voice before Crayton could correct him, "you get the dog's tags and collar. Send the receipt for those in with the ticket, and your citation is reduced to walking a dog without proper identification. Or you just pay the fine straight up."

"What's the third option?" Crayton noticed Relena struggling with the bottle. He took it back, opened it, and handed it back to her.

"Take the dog to Central Animal Control, and they'll give you a receipt for the dog's destruction. Send that in with the print out and your fee is waived." The officer's beady eyes stared down at the dog, which ignored him. "Putting it down'll cost a hundred credits, by the way. Have a good day."

Relena stared down at the printout, and blinked several times. "The fine's five hundred and twenty credits." She felt ill. "He's not even my dog."

"I'm guessing destroying it is out of the question," Crayton said.

"I'm not killing a living animal," she retorted, and tucked the ticket in her purse. "I'll just have to talk to Heero." She finished off the last of the water and dropped it into the nearest recycling bin. "Come on, dog, we're halfway home."

Crayton sighed and fell in place beside her.

 

 

 

Five blocks from the apartment, and dusk was falling. Heero hadn't called; Relena figured he was still stuck in the meeting. Technically they both had familial leave for another six months, but neither wanted to leave the organization for so long. It wasn't like corporate, where someone else would simply fill in and they'd never be missed. Relena's assistant directors were making all appearances, and she'd heard promising things about the young woman she'd hired just before going on leave. Relena sometimes wished she'd had time to get a Master's degree, too, but failing that, she'd been looking forward to lunches with Meiran, and the vicarious thrill of hearing about school from someone else who'd been there.

"Ma'am," Crayton whispered, catching her on the elbow.

Relena came out of her heat-induced daze to blink at the sidewalk before them. Three young men had stepped from the dusky shadows, and were ranged on the sidewalk in front of them, loose grins on their faces. One of them stared at Relena, and put his hand on his crotch, gripping himself tightly before letting go with a leer. Relena blinked, and immediately her hand fell to the dog's shoulders, holding on as though the dog could lend her strength.

"Hand over your cards," one of the young men said. He held up his hand, and a blade shot from his wrist, burying itself in Relena's purse. She jumped sideways, bumping into the dog.

"That's enough—" Crayton started to say.

He stepped forward, hands out, but almost immediately the dog was in the way. It growled low in its throat, teeth bared, ears back flat on its head. Its tail was down between its legs, and it crouched slightly. Relena blinked at the sight of the coppery-brown strip of fur coming up; hackles, she thought, so that's what hackles are.

"Ho... leee... fuck," one of the men breathed. "That's not a dog, that's a fucking cow!"

"Like you'd know a fucking cow if you saw one," the third man said. He backed up a step, and took a second step backwards when the dog's head swung to stare at him. "Call off your dog, lady."

"Call it off or we'll kill it," the first man said - he was the one who'd grabbed his crotch - and he tilted his wrist, pointing it at the dog.

In a flash, the dog moved, a blur of black and brown in the city's hot twilight. There was a high-pitched scream, and two of the men turned, bolting down the sidewalk. The third man was on the ground, and the dog was growling deeply. The sound reverberated in the dog's massive chest, echoing off the empty sidewalk and blank-faced apartment buildings.

"Dog! Dog!" Relena leapt forward, tugging at the dog's fur. She couldn't get a grip, and settled for pulling on its ear. "Stop! Don't get me in any more trouble!"

"Relena!" Crayton hauled her backwards. He stepped forward and caught the dog by the neck, lifting it away as well.

The man on the ground promptly curled up in a ball, his hands clutching his groin. Crayton caught the man by the shirt collar, hauled him to his feet, and punched him once in the jaw. He dropped the man, a disgusted look on his face when the high-pitched keening became sniffling sounds.

"Come on, you," Crayton said, taking her by the elbow and jerking her forward. "Let's move, before they bring reinforcements." The dog caught up with them, its ears still back and its tail lowered, and Crayton spared it a quick glance. "Good boy," he said. "You take rear guard, and I'll take advance."

Relena noted the dog fell into line behind them. She wanted to say something, but it was too much trouble to walk forward without tripping, let alone while trying to look over her shoulder at the same time. Crayton was dragging her at a quick pace, and she focused on breathing evenly and not panicking. Two blocks farther, and she had to call a halt.

"Please, I can't breathe," she said, prying herself from Crayton's hand. "Too hot." She stumbled, and instantly the dog was at her side, breaking her fall. Crayton caught her, and lifted her up.

"Ma'am," he whispered. "You've pushed yourself too far today. When Mr. Yuy finds out—"

"Really, Crayton, Mr. Yuy isn't... " Whatever Mr. Yuy wasn't would have to wait. She could barely grasp at her intended words before they were fading and she was slipping into darkness.

 

 

 

"Thank you again, Crayton," Heero said, nodding at the man's apologetic expression before shutting the door. He leaned against it for a moment, his forehead hot on the cold metal.

Sighing, he pushed away from the door and walked into the bedroom. The dog was lying across the threshold, but stood up at Heero's approach. Heero frowned at that; as he passed, the dog lay back down in the doorway, but it had turned to watch him. Heero shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing Relena's hair away from her neck. She stirred, and he lifted the damp compress from her forehead, dipped it into the bowl of water and squeezed it out before laying it across her forehead again.

"Heero," Relena sighed, her eyelashes fluttering. "Don't be mad at Crayton."

"I'm not," Heero said.

He wasn't sure whether he wanted to sit Relena up and yell at her, slap some sense into her, or kiss her until she couldn't breathe. The phone call from Crayton had had him nearly pummeling the first taxi driver he could find, anything to get him home as soon as possible. He'd managed to arrive only minutes after Crayton, but fortunately Relena's rating wasn't too high; she was probably just in shock and exhausted.

"You met the dog," Relena said. She turned to stare at the dog, then gave Heero a smile. The compress tilted crookedly over one eye, and Heero straightened it. "He saved us."

"I heard." Heero ran a hand through his hair. He was dripping in sweat from the furious rush home. "I should take a shower. You rest, and I'll make us some dinner."

"I can do that."

"No, rest." Heero pushed her back down on to the bed.

Relena pouted and pulled the compress from her forehead. "Everyone's been pushing me today. I'm not an invalid."

"An attitude like that will turn you into one," Heero chided. "You have to take it easy." He stood up, and fixed her with a stern glare. "Just rest. Don't make me worry."

"I'm not," she protested, and started to get up.

In desperation, Heero turned to the dog. "Don't let her out of bed," he ordered, pointing to Relena, who laughed in surprise. Heero gave her an abashed grin. "Well, I figured it was worth a try." He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, extricating himself when she tried to turn it into something more. "Let go, Rel, I'm dirty and I stink. I want to take a shower."

"You're no fun," she fussed, but let go.

Heero snorted, stripping off his clothes and throwing them into the dirty hamper. Five minutes later he was done with the shower; he opened the bathroom door, rubbing at his head with a towel and came to a stop at the foot of the bed, stunned. Relena was glaring daggers at him, while the dog lay across her lap. The dog appeared to be asleep, but one ear twitched when Relena wriggled under it.

"The dog won't get off me," Relena announced. "It got up on the bed, and laid down, and now it won't get off!" She swatted at the dog. "You're heavy!"

Heero chuckled and cocked his head, coming around to stand by the head of the bed; he couldn't help but be amused by the sight of his wife, pinned to the bed by a dog who possibly weighed as much - if not more - than she. Even with its legs tucked under it, the dog took up the width of the bed; its forelegs were across Relena's stomach, its head hanging off the side of the bed. When Heero crossed his arms and grinned down at Relena, the dog suddenly raised its head. Heero leapt backwards, startled at a cold, wet touch against his dick.

"What's wrong?" Relena gave Heero a wide-eyed look, then stared down at the dog. The dog's ears perked, and its tail thumped several times against the bedcovers.

"Cold nose," Heero choked out, and scratched his balls before removing his hand. The dog's tongue lolled out, and Heero scowled. "Stupid dog." He'd heard jokes about dogs sniffing crotches to say hello. "Consider us introduced, dog, and don't do that again."

"And get used to not sleeping on the bed," Relena added.

She poked the dog, which scrambled off her and jumped down to the floor. It came to stand by Heero, and its hot breath hit him in the stomach; panting over his groin, stirring his pubic hairs gently. Heero glared at the dog; it laid down across Heero's feet. He had to hop out of the way to keep his bare feet from getting crushed.

"I'm going to make dinner," Heero announced, and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the closet. Pulling them on in jerky motions, he pointed at the dog. "Stay off the bed, and out of my crotch."

The dog's tail thumped twice, and Relena giggled.

"You're not helping," Heero told her, and he had to struggle to retain his annoyed expression. "Just wait until he sticks his nose in  _your_  crotch. Dogs do that, y'know."

"Really?" Relena leaned back on the bed, and spread her knees a little. "Can I take you to bed and call you Fido?"

Heero blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and glared. Relena only giggled, and Heero stomped from the bedroom, not at all sure what had gotten into his wife. 


	4. Chapter 4

_"a big dull blurt hanging dumbly in a gray brown mass of semi-late-afternoon cloudy darkness and pebble grit"_  
— Jack Kerouac

 

 

Plan B went into effect at the grocery store. Plan A hadn't worked. Relena wasn't sure what had gone wrong, but her first attempt had appeared to backfire, and it had taken two or three days to coax Heero back into the bedroom. He was still a bit skittish, and she made a mental note not to repeat that mistake. She made a last-minute appointment with Dorothy, kissed Heero good-bye, made him promise not to let Dog on the sofa, and left with Crayton and Jackson in tow.

 

 

 

Heero slouched on the living room chair, and put his feet up on the glass table. He stared at his toenails for several minutes, wondering whether he should trim them. Relena would come back energized, as she always was after seeing Dorothy, and wanting sex, he expected. He sighed heavily.

Dog got up from his spot in the corner, and came over to the sofa. Heero nodded, and Dog promptly jumped up on the loveseat, lying down with a pleased grunt.

"Yeah, you've got it easy," Heero said. "Just don't shed, or she'll have my hide, not yours."

Dog lowered his head, his eyes watching Heero intensely from behind the thick chestnut-brown fringe.

"I just... " Heero ran a hand through his hair, and groaned. "I'm doing everything wrong! I thought sex was great. I mean, it seemed like it was. Then suddenly she has to start telling me what to do. You've heard her!"

He felt a bit like an idiot for talking to a dog—who'd been locked out of the bedroom at those times, no less—but Trowa was in appointments, and he doubted Trowa would know much more than he did about women, anyway. Trowa's experience was limited to Hilde, a few coworkers, and his sister—and his sister was a case by herself. Heero grunted and sunk lower in the chair.

"Do this, don't do that, move like this, faster, now slower, now suck, don't suck, lick," Heero repeated.

He stared at the glass coffee table, the sofa they'd saved for six months to buy. The little apartment with its broad window facing the city; their one luxury was a view of things they didn't own. Dog whined, softly.

"I just... I thought I was good enough," Heero whispered, mostly to himself. "But I was doing it all wrong. And now every time, I feel like... " He shook his head and got up. No point, he told himself. Might as well get some cleaning done while she's off with someone who knows how to do it right.

 

 

 

When Relena returned, she took a deep breath before unlocking the apartment door. Dorothy had met her for a quick drink at the tea shop across from the DPM, and together they'd come up with Plan B.

"Heero," she called, following the sounds of sloshing water into the bathroom where he was cleaning the sink. "We need to go to the grocery store."

"I'll go," he said, straightening up.

"No. We're going together. We can walk Dog at the same time."

Heero gave her a blank look, and shrugged, wiping off his hands.

Now, twenty minutes later, Heero was studying the cans of peas, weighing the value of one over the other. Relena watched him for several seconds, but she was weighing Dorothy's words, not the price of imported peas.

"Heero," she said, and leaned over, brushing against his outstretched arm with her chest. "I'm not wearing a bra."

Heero frowned, blinking several times, then raised his eyebrows, as if expecting more. Relena stared at him, and he stared back; she waited for some sign, but Heero's brows lowered back into a frown, his eyes shuttered.

"Should we get the sweet peas, or the ones with less sodium?"

Relena stifled a snort of frustration. "Whatever you prefer. I'm going to get dog food."

She tried again in the fresh food section. Having the time to cook meant Heero had started to explore new recipes; he'd not cooked since they were first married and had a month to settle in before going back to work. He was hovering over the roma tomatoes, reddening under the grow-lights. Relena kicked the dog food bag lightly, on the bottom rack of the cart, waiting until no one was near.

"Heero," she said, in a low tone, but conversational. "I'm not wearing any underwear."

That time he reacted. It was only through what appeared to be sheer force of will that the tomato in his hand didn't pay the price of his surprise.

"Rel," he managed to choke out. His blue eyes were huge, and his grip on the tomato didn't let up. "You're... "

"Right." Relena leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then glanced around surreptitiously before licking his cheek as well. "Grocery shopping's boring."

"It's not—" His words halted, the tomato still held tightly.

"Wouldn't you rather get me home and find out just how wet I am?" Relena wondered whether she'd need to say the rest of what Dorothy had suggested, but it wasn't necessary. With amazing speed, Heero picked three tomatoes, bagged them, and hustled she, the cart, and himself into the checkout line and out of the store.

By the time they got home, Dog was panting, and so were they. Heero had carried the bag of food on his shoulder, the bags in his free hand, while Relena held Dog's leash. Dog was more than happy to pick up his pace, tail-plumes waving gracefully as he led the way home without stopping.

"Rel, we're going too fast," Heero said, as they entered the lobby. "You need to slow down."

He hadn't broken out into a sweat, but his eyes kept shifting to her thigh-length skirt. For the two-block walk-run, Relena had made a point of letting her skirt ride up a little each time she stretched her legs to keep up with both Heero and Dog. Heero's response—she was almost positive—had been a soft whimper.

"Not possible," she taunted, and dashed past him to the elevators. Hitting the button, she jogged a little in place until the doors opened. Heero stepped in behind her; between them and Dog, it was a tight fit.

The doors closed, and Relena spun in place to plant her shoulders against the security camera. Then she lifted her skirt, revealing a bare crotch, which she promptly covered with her hand. She tilted her hips out, and Heero made a choking sound. He started to move forward, but Dog was in the way. Dog turned to watch as well, and Relena let her eyes drift half-closed even as she chided Dog.

"No, you've already done the sniffing thing," she said. The chime sounded for their floor and she dropped her skirt, tugging on Dog's leash until he followed. Heero came along behind the hundred feet to their apartment door, his mouth moving but no sound coming out.

Inside their apartment, Heero dropped the food and turned on his heel, pushing her up against the wall.

"Need," he groaned, and pressed his hips against her. "Now," and he kissed her brutally, desperately.

She returned the kiss, then placed her hands on his cheeks and pushed him away. "Sit down at the table," she ordered. "I'll serve appetizers."

"Appe... " Heero shook his head. "Forget the damn food—"

"Trust me."

She prodded him in the chest, and Heero scowled before reluctantly heading to the table. She pointed to her chair—its back to the window—and he sighed and seated himself, hands braced on the steel-beam arms. He hated sitting with his back to windows, but for Plan B, it was necessary.

"Rel... "

Relena hopped up on the table next to him, perching on the edge. Sliding sideways, she put her bare feet on the chair arms, and yanked her skirt up with one smooth motion. It left her ass pressed against the faux-wood design; for a moment, she wondered if the imprint would be left in her skin when she was done.

"See this?" Relena sucked on all four fingers, then slid her hand down to cover her crotch. Heero raised his hands, and she shook her head. "No, just watch."

"Rel—" There was a warning note in his voice, and she could see that worried look returning to his eyes.

"Shhh," she said. "Just watch. Besides, if you move... " Her gaze flicked to the massive windows behind him, and the apartment building across the way, lines of picture windows facing them. "Then everyone across the street will see I'm sitting here with my fingers in my cunt." It took everything she had not to burst into embarrassed laughter at hearing one of Dorothy's words rolling off her tongue, but she managed to keep her voice low and serious. "They'll all see me. You want that?"

Heero made a strangled sound, and his gaze dropped down to study her fingers sliding back and forth, pushing deep inside herself and back up to spread apart her labia. He looked like she'd just shot him in the gut and wasn't sure whether to thank her or shoot her in return.

Dog came over, lying down next to the chair, and Heero tensed.

"Dog's watching," he said, nervous. "I should—"

"Yeah, so a dog's watching," Relena said. She leaned back on one hand, letting her free hand play in her crotch, rubbing a few times against her clit. Little fires stoked along her nerves, and she hissed, tilting her hips up. "That turn you on?" She was teasing, following her instincts, but at Heero's wild look, she dropped one foot into his lap, feeling the bulge in his pants, hard as a rock. Ah-hah, she thought, amazed and victorious. Maybe...

"Take it out," she whispered. "Take out your cock and let me see it."

Heero nodded, a jerky motion, and managed to unzip his pants and pull down his boxers, his eyes never leaving her fingers rubbing slowly back and forth along her clit. She licked her lips at the sight of his cock, rearing up proudly from a thatch of black curls, just a bit canted to the left. Heero's hand grasped his cock, and another idea occurred to her.

"Do it," she said, and flicked her fingers faster against herself. "Stroke yourself. Touch yourself. I want to see."

"Rel," Heero said, a bit strangled. He glanced over to Dog again, who regarded them both with a calm expression. Dog might as well have been waiting for table scraps; at the thought, Relena had to bite back a giggle.

"You're being watched," she murmured, and Heero's grip tightened on his cock. "You like that? Or perhaps... "

She leaned back, and sucked a finger into her mouth, licking her lips like it was the best thing she'd tasted. It was a bit sour, flat on her tongue like soap in the mouth, but not unbearable. Heero made a keening sound in his throat, his hand speeding up along his cock. She noticed he flicked his wrist at the top, rubbing his palm against the head, before sliding loose fingers down to the base, gripping it tightly again on the upstroke.

"Maybe," she said, forcing her voice down to a throaty whisper, "you'd like to watch, too."

Heero's eyes widened and she knew she'd hit a mark. Desperate, she racked her brain for a good name to use. This hadn't been in Plan B; she was moving into uncharted territory. Trowa had always been a gentleman and he had Hilde, so that wasn´t a likely fantasy. Who else? Not one of their guards. The name sprung to her lips, almost unbidden.

"Maybe you'd like to watch Duo doing this. See Duo's fingers... " She trailed her damp fingers along the inside of her thigh, circling lazily around her clit in ever-smaller circles. "His fingers doing this? See him rub against me, feel me, sink into this... so wet... "

She moaned, slipping her fingers inside herself. It didn't feel as marvelous as when Heero did it, but gathering from the increased speed of Heero's hand, he was enjoying the view. She figured there was nothing wrong with playing it up. Plunging her fingers farther inside, she pumped her hips before letting her fingers slide free. Heero groaned loudly, his gaze fixed on her hand.

"What about you?" She realized she was getting pretty damn hot with the visual in her head, and rushed forward into it, headlong. Now or never, and only one way to find out. "What if that's Duo's hand on your cock? Is that how he'd touch you?"

Heero froze, his hand halfway through an upstroke. He swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing, and began touching himself with lighter fingers, trailing along the underside of his cock. It glistened with pre-cum, and he moaned, leaning back a little in the chair.

"I think he'd be harder," Relena whispered. Heero's eyes slid shut, and he gripped his cock with a fury of white knuckles, pumping slowly. "Yeah," Relena urged.

It felt like the world was spinning away from her, with only her feet on Heero's chair and her bare ass pressed against a fake wood table. Duo's hand on her husband's cock, Duo's fingers against her clit, and she wondered if the wet and heat were seeping from her to pool on the table between her thighs.

"I'm watching you," she murmured. "Watching him pump you, fuck you—" She was startled when Heero gave a hoarse cry, arching his back. His hips jerked, and she froze. Muscles were corded on Heero's wrist, fingers tight enough to squeeze out life were squeezing out a thick, white substance, coating his fingers and the hem of his shirt.

"Rel," Heero gasped, his hand still on his cock. His face was flushed, pupils so dilated the black had swallowed the blue. "Rel," he said again.

"Dinnertime," Relena said, and slid her hips to the edge of the table.

Heero groaned again, need and fury and desperation in the sound, and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her forward until his face was buried between her legs. He licked and sucked with the drive of a man possessed, and she pressed her palms flat on the table, pushing him on with quick words.

"Watching you, watching you," she said, until it all ran together and she was coming, exploding, hips rocking up against his tongue and his chin and his nose. His fingers were buried inside her, his thumb pressing against her asshole, pushing just the tip in, and she dimly registered Dorothy's words: what you do to another is often what you want done to yourself. Relena made a note with some distant part of her mind, and when Heero began to pull away, she clamped her thighs around his head, pulling him back down.

"More," she ordered, "give me more. Fuck me, fuck all of me—"

Heero didn't protest. She pushed him to keep going, again and again until the orgasms had become breathless little shocks, and she lowered her hips. He sat up, his blue eyes glazed, and she hopped off the table to straddle his lap. He was hard again, and she kissed him deeply, tasting herself on his tongue, along with a bitter saltiness that must be him, as well.

He made no sound as she impaled herself, but his hands gripped her hips tightly.

"Someone's watching us," she murmured, wondering how much farther she could push it.

Heero tensed, then suddenly bucked his hips up, slamming into her. She rode the motion with a grunt, settling down into his punishing rhythm. Curious, Relena leaned back, one arm around Heero's neck while her other hand snaked down behind her to clasp Heero's balls. It was a stretch, a contortion, but she was rewarded with a desperate cry and Heero began pounding faster. She urged him on with whimpers and cries, and he buried his face against her breast, mouthing her through the blouse. Teeth clamped down, tugging on her nipple, and Relena shifted her hips to rub her clit against his pelvic bone. Thin tremors ran through her, and with a last stretch, she pushed her finger down between his thighs and shoved the very tip of her index finger into his asshole.

"And Duo—" She didn't manage to finish, drowned out by Heero's growl.

He came to his feet, dropping her onto the table, and grabbed her hips, slamming into her over and over. Relena gasped, catching her breath at the sudden change in position. It only took a beat and she'd twisted, reaching for Heero's ass. Shoving his pants down further, she pried at his ass, reaching to impale him as well. She couldn't get more than the tip of her finger in, but his startled look was pleasure, pain, ecstasy—mouth open, forehead creased, eyes squeezed tight -a cry caught in his throat. He froze, pressed in as deeply as he could, and she shoved her finger into his asshole, pumping repeatedly. Heero's head hung down, his hips rocking with her movement. He let out a huge breath; his shoulders were shaking. Gradually Relena withdrew her finger, trailing her hands across his ass and around to his hips.

"Relena," he said, in a choked, stunned voice. "Rel... "

"I like it when you fuck me," she announced, and for perhaps the first time, the crude language held a delicious note. Heero remained inside her, bending over to mouth and nip along her neck and down to her breasts, pulling her blouse open with trembling fingers.

She did like it, and brought out all that she'd learned, turning it over in her head. A great deal learned, and a great deal to ponder.

 

 

 

The next week passed in a blur; it seemed that once Heero had some idea of how to make Relena beg for mercy, he took every opportunity to slide a hand down her jeans, pull up her skirt, and bury his face against her crotch. And he didn't let up until she'd cried out his name several times; he was getting better at ramming his cock deep into her right as she fell over the edge of her final orgasm.

She also noticed that he'd taken to doing it—more often than not—when Dog was nearby. Relena said nothing again about an imaginary third party, although sometimes her fingers clawed at his ass and reached for his balls. Heero's reaction was phenomenal, and she realized it was a surefire way to prompt an orgasm that left him breathless and sated.

Then, two weeks after Dog had come to live with them, he ran away.

 

 

 

The phone rang, and Relena leaped for it, desperate. "Yuy household," she answered, fingers gripping the phone. Heero was out with Jackson, walking the neighborhood, calling for Dog.

"Mrs. Yuy?" A familiar voice, somehow. A man's voice, baritone, laughing.

"Yes, are you calling about the dog? Have you seen him?"

"Excuse me?" The man chuckled. "No, it's Duo Maxwell. I figured I'd look you up—"

"Oh." Relena had to take a breath, get her bearings. "Sorry, our dog ran away."

"I didn't know you had a dog." Duo seemed surprised.

"Yeah, we adopted him—or he adopted us—about two weeks ago. And it's... I don't know," she said, and fought back the tears. She had no idea she'd react this strongly if Dog were suddenly gone. "Heero acts like he can't stand Dog, but he's been looking all day. I had to come home and lie down, but I was hoping someone would have... " She stumbled over her words, and caught herself. "Sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't burden you with our problems."

"No worries, Mrs. Yuy—"

"Relena," she corrected him.

"Duo," he shot back, laughing. "You get that man of yours, and I'll bring something by for dinner. Sounds to me like the two of you could use some comforting. Sounds like you're both pretty upset."

Relena sighed heavily. "Actually, we are. I mean, it's Dog. I was getting used to him, and then... " She rubbed her eyes, and glanced around the apartment, wondering if it were clean enough. "Uh, tonight? Dinner? Should we go out—"

"No, I'll bring food, and cook," Duo said. "You just be ready. Half-hour?"

"Oh, uh... sure." Relena barely heard his goodbyes, and hung up, stunned.

Outside the steam-drenched city was fading into an orange-gray dusk, and she knew she might as well call Heero and tell him to come home. They wouldn't find Dog at night, and she didn't want Heero wandering the streets around their apartment building. He might be able to bend steel and kill a man seventeen different ways, but he couldn't dodge a bullet if someone got him from behind. It was hard enough thinking of Dog, leash broken, wandering the city where dickhead cops could catch him—she scowled at her language, but it fit. She didn't want to think of Heero lost, as well.

 

 

 

Heero returned to the apartment building as a taxi pulled up, and Duo got out, plastic bags in hand. He waved to Heero, who jogged over, the two guards following him.

"Jackson, Wong," Heero said, a polite dismissal; both men knew he was appreciative of their help staying over to look for Dog a little longer. A few more quiet words, and the men departed into the city's humid darkness, while Heero turned to take one of the bags from Duo.

"This is unexpected," Heero told him. "Relena said you're cooking dinner?"

"Figured it sounded like you two aren't doing too well," Duo said, shrugging. He paid the cab fare and hoisted the last bag into his arms. The cab pulled away from the curb, but Duo made no motion to head into the apartment building. "Heero," he said, and his face was creased with anxiety, or uncertainty. "I have a question. I'm sorry if it's too personal, but... "

"Ask, and then I can tell you," Heero replied. That kind of preface had always confused him, but Duo seemed like the kind to respect Heero's take on things.

"Your wife... " Duo huffed, and scratched the back of his head, thick braid swinging behind him. "She's... she's not doing well, is she."

"She's been ill for several years."

"No, I mean... recently." Duo shook his head. "When I saw her, before I left, she seemed... she seemed worse than when the night I met you."

"She has good days and bad days," Heero allowed. He turned to head inside, but Duo caught him by the arm.

"Not what I meant," Duo replied. "Have you checked her medication bottles? See if she's taking more than usual?" He glanced away from Heero's puzzled look. "I know, that sounds impertinent of me, but... I've seen her disease before."

"You have?" Heero couldn't hide the shock, nor the excitement. The doctors had spent eight years treating the symptoms, with no known cause. "Where? What happened? Is there a cure?"

"Yes, there's a cure," Duo said, and sighed heavily. "She has to get pregnant."

Heero felt the ground drop out from under him. He could only nod, dumbly, and he knew Duo was saying something else but he couldn't hear and couldn't focus. Instead he led the way into the apartment building, Duo's words echoing in his head. Not until they were in the elevator did his brain finally lock down and begin to process, evincing skepticism where before there was only miserable resignation.

"Why?" The elevator doors pulled back, revealing the Yuy's floor. Down the hall to the right, and Duo followed, his expression somber. Heero shook his head. "I've never heard of a disease that's only cured by—"

"It's not a disease, really," Duo responded; his tone was gentle, understanding. "It's a poison. Introduced into people's bloodstreams by the government, during a number of peace rallies about eight or nine years ago. A type of experiment." Duo paused; when he spoke again, it was barely louder than their footsteps on the checkerboard linoleum tiles. "The idea was to reduce the breeding population among those who might raise their children anti-government. Those who attended the rallies, on the front lines, were exposed to the chemical directly. Those in the back, less so. And those who went to a number of rallies... "

"Relena... " Heero felt ill. All during her high school years, and into college, she'd led numerous war protests in the name of her father's organization. He tightened his grip on the bag in his arms. "If that were so, then some of her friends would be—"

"How many of her friends are still alive?" Duo didn't look his way, but slowed his steps, and Heero slowed as well. "Does she keep in touch with them?"

"Some." Heero racked his mind for names, information. "Noin was at a lot of rallies, and so was Miranda. John Stevenson, and Michael Lee... "

"How many of the women that you recall now have children?"

Heero had to think on that. "I think almost all of them," he finally said. "Relena would know."

"It's called oestrogen-induced anemia," Duo whispered. "High levels of oestrogen sap the body, and these high levels only drop once the woman has ovulated. But the problem is that she only ovulates if she's... mated."

"Relena's had sex," Heero replied, a bit stiffly. He frowned, realizing something. "And after sex, she does seem to feel better for an hour or so, but then it goes back to the way it was... "

"Then something's not right," Duo said; his brow was furrowed. "The presence of sperm in her cervix and uterus—"

"I'm sterile," Heero interrupted. He tried to sound curt, but he knew the words had caught in his throat. "I have a nonexistent sperm count."

Duo's eyes went wide, and he looked away. "I'm sorry. I thought I might be bringing you good news. I didn't realize... "

"It would be, but the army's drugs... " Heero decided he'd said enough. He jerked his head towards the end of the hallway. "Please, don't tell her any of this. Not until I've had a chance to think about it, and right now she's so upset about Dog... "

"Dog," Duo mused, and nodded, accepting the topic change. "So, why didn't you give it a real name?"

"Don't know." Heero shrugged, leading the way the last forty feet to his front door. There was a little sign on the front that said, 'welcome to the Yuys' with flowers painted around the border; he thought it might have been a gift from Trowa. "It just didn't seem right. Like we didn't have the right to name something that wasn't ours."

"But you adopted it."

"No, Relena will tell you Dog adopted us," Heero replied, and shrugged ruefully. "And I think I have to admit she's right."

The door was yanked open, and Relena was standing there, her eyes bright, her cheeks pink. Heero guessed she must have been cleaning frantically, and he frowned enough for her to pick it up. She made a quick face at him, then smiled widely at Duo.

"Ignore my husband," she told Duo. "I'm always right, even if it's nice to be acknowledged. Please, come in! I want to hear all about your travels."


	5. Chapter 5

_"the baggage that's lost, nor damaged handles, nameplates vanished, busted wires and broken ropes, whole trunks exploding on the concrete floor"_  
— Carl Ginsburg

 

 

Duo's first meeting with the couple had been in a social situation, and he'd been struck by Relena's unselfconscious—even naïve—grace, and Heero's dark good looks and utterly deadpan humor. The two balanced each other well, teasing and jibing in different ways but both understanding the other perfectly. And through the current of romance that ran between them, Duo could sense a deeper sorrow, one he'd soon connected to the scent of illness, putrefaction, hanging over Relena.

"Finished the apples?" He looked over her shoulder. She was peeling the two apples as carefully as possible; he'd promised her she could have the peels as her reward. Heero was stealing little snippets of peeling every time she picked up the paring knife. Duo grinned over Relena's head. "When you're done, slice them into half-inch thick slices. The shell's ready, and so is the sugar mix."

"Sugar," Relena sighed, and gave her husband a wicked look. Heero frowned, clearly disagreeing.

"One piece of pie won't hurt," Duo said, and Relena clapped her hands together in an almost girlish way.

"Yes!" She popped up to kiss Duo on the cheek and landed in her seat again. Her cheeks were bright red, and Duo blinked, then chuckled softly.

"I see the way into your wife's good graces," Duo said over his shoulder, turning back to the stove to stir the rice. "I should notify her colleagues that three ounces of real sugar will soothe the wild peace organizer."

Heero snorted and stole another peel. "I demand half by rights." He took another peel, barely missing Relena trying to skewer his hand with the paring knife. Heero gave Duo a smug look and ate the peel. "Commonwealth."

"It's good to share," Duo said, and smiled.

 

 

 

Duo's last contribution was pear wine. It was a New Beijing vintage, and he soaked the label, removing it for Relena to stick to the fridge as a memento. He did most of the talking, rambling on about New Beijing and New Angels, while pouring out a tablespoon for each glass and diluting the rest with water. Normally he'd drink it straight, but it was enough to have sugar in the meal; mixing alcohol with medication would be too much for her.

During the meal, the conversation strayed to the question of Dog, and how he'd broken free from Relena while out for a walk. Before Duo knew it, Relena was regaling him with stories about Dog, while Heero chimed in with stories of his own, nearly riding over his own wife's words. The reticent Heero was gone, a shyly laughing and excited Heero in his place. If he'd been handsome before, he was breathtaking when he laughed.

Relena refused to clear the table, ushering them into the little living room. She kept the lights low, and the city was a vibrant thing in the window, a massive plate-glass image of moving cars on the streets below. Headlights and streetlights and stoplights played dizzy with Duo's sight, and Relena settled onto the sofa, her feet tucked under her. She swirled the last of her diluted pear wine in her glass, and set it on the low table.

"Duo," she said, in a calm voice. "What were you two talking about before you came to the door?"

"Excuse me?" Duo turned from the window, leaning against the glass. It was warm against his shoulder blades; the apartment was air-conditioned but he could feel the city's heat hammering at the glass. "I believe we were talking about Dog."

Relena nodded, then cast a sideways glance at her husband. "I'd believe that, but I'm a better judge of character than that."

Heero frowned, and stared down at his own glass.

"I rest my case." Relena gave Duo a hurt look. "Is something going on? Is it another war? You travel, I'm sure you've heard—"

"No, not war," Duo said, and settled into the chair. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at Heero. There was no response for a long moment, then Heero nodded, granting silent permission. Duo sighed and pulled his braid around, tugging sharply for a minute as he collected his thoughts. "Relena-girl, you've been attending peace rallies for a number of years now, right?"

"It's what I do. What my father did, and his... " Relena trailed off with a frown. "Why? I know there are some crazy types out there, but—"

"No, it's not that, either." Duo waved away her fears of stalkers; he'd heard she'd dealt with several since taking over the Peacecraft Organization. "You had friends in high school who also attended these protests?"

"Yeah." Relena's expression darkened, and she stared across the room towards the bright skyline. The city-sky was a lurid gray-red glow, lights reflecting up towards the low clouds. "What about them?"

"How many of them are still alive?"

Relena sucked in her breath through her teeth. "There were twenty-two of us in our high school chapter. Three of us are still around."

"And your two friends... they have children now?"

She nodded.

Carefully and cautiously, Duo outlined the poison used on her classmates and Relena. When introduced into the system of a normally menstruating female, it began its effects immediately, sapping the system through anemia, resulting in bone deficiency, leukemia-like conditions, endometritis...

"I'm not a doctor, but I've known women who've died of complications related to the poison," Duo explained. "What's amazing is that you've survived six years. Most women haven't."

"Ah... " Relena shifted on the sofa, and gave him an abashed look. "I didn't actually get my period until I turned twenty-one." She shrugged. "Late bloomer."

"I see." Duo took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Relena-girl, there's a cure, but... "

"What?" She looked at Heero, who stared down at his glass. Confused, she turned to Duo. "And?"

"Pregnancy." Duo haltingly explained the basic issue, and didn't look up when he'd finished.

"I see," Relena said, very quietly.

For several minutes, the apartment was silent. Duo could only stare at his feet, noting the soft blues in the little rug, becoming gray in the evening light. He had no idea what to say or do, to make up for his news or to change it, or to assist. He'd be willing to offer any of a number of things, but perhaps he was simply just one more romantic. He liked the couple. Heero seemed driven and principled yet kind; Relena was witty, thoughtful, and optimistic. There weren't enough people like them in the world. If there were, the world might be a better place.

"So." Relena took a deep breath, reached out, and picked up her glass. She downed it in one swallow, and set the glass down. Before Heero could react, she took his glass, and drank it, too.

"Rel!" Heero sat up with a shocked look.

Relena shook her head at him, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Setting the glass firmly on the table next to her own, she swung her legs down to the floor, straightened her back, and gave Duo a hard look.

"Have sex with me," she announced.

Heero looked stunned, and raised his head to stare at Duo, who could only stare back, helplessly. This wasn't at all what he'd expected. Sperm donation, maybe, wasn't that an option? Her family had money, he'd heard; he was sure that would be her first thought. Not this unexpected demand.

"Tonight," Relena added.

Duo blinked, realized his jaw was on the floor, and made a choking sound. Heero was simply staring at Relena, eyes wide, but then something shifted and he cocked his head at her. She dropped her chin with a shy smile, and Duo noticed somehow they'd ended up holding hands. He realized his jaw was still open.

"Relena-girl," Duo said, tentatively.

"Oh." She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. She managed a tense giggle. "Yeah. Well, it was just an idea."

"Your government," Duo began. "They'd—"

"They wouldn't know," she said, quickly. "Not like they'd care."

Duo narrowed his eyes. "You could ask someone to donate sperm."

"Maybe." Relena frowned: a thin line between her brows. "Heero has no family. I have one brother. My parents were only children, or I suppose if I had an aunt I would ask her husband. But I don't. I'd definitely ask Trowa, but he's a neutral. He can't do it, either."

"Relena-girl," Duo said, and sighed. "You don't have to decide this tonight."

"It seems to me the perfect solution," she said, and her lower lip jutted, apparently unaware of her slight pout. "We like you. There's really no one else we know. Maybe it's strange, but I feel like I know you. Like I have for a long time and just didn't know it." Her voice dropped to a whisper, her gaze moving away from him to stare out at the city, cars and cabs and buses shining headlights on buildings. "You travel. You're free. Heero would be the father of my children, but there would be a bit of you, too. Maybe our child would be free, then, too." She rubbed her hand on her stomach; she didn't seem to be aware she was doing it. "Two fathers... "

"Rel," Heero murmured. Duo couldn't tell whether it was to rein her in or encourage her, but Relena smiled as though she understood.

"No, we wouldn't make you beholden, unless you chose," Relena said, in a stronger voice. "But I'm not going to take another day of those medicines. I'm sick of taking drugs and feeling tired and having to lie down after walking two blocks, let alone collapsing for two days... "

"You shouldn't have walked twenty blocks," Duo muttered. "Promise me next time you'll take a cab."

"I wasn't going to leave Dog," Relena protested. "No way—"

"And that's why I'd say yes," Duo said, cutting her off, but he softened his voice. "You are both... people of worth." He ran a hand through his bangs, holding them out of the way to smile at her, then dropped his hands. "But there could be complications. The time I've traveled, I've been exposed to many things—"

"Do you have any diseases?" Her voice was sharp.

"I'm not a neutral," Duo replied, hedging. "Any child of mine will be healthy."

"Do you have any wives or other children hiding somewhere?"

Duo blinked. "Ah... nope." He grinned, widely. "I make a point not to, unless someone asks, and... " He realized she'd tensed. "No, Relena-girl, no one has ever asked before. Just you."

"Then that's all I want to know." Relena sighed when Heero shifted behind her, and shook her head. "I know Heero has searched for you in the system." She patted her husband's knee. "Hasn't found you, I'm pretty sure."

"I'm not on the grid," Duo replied. "That's how I travel."

"Then we have to take your word that you're safe, just as you'll have to take our word that we'll raise your child with all the love we can give it, with no resentment or burden as though it weren't our own."

Duo considered that, a bit startled by how quickly Relena could move things along, and definitely startled by how fast she made up her mind before shoving things along. "There are three of us here." She had to know how complicated it could make her life. "You're married—"

"I'm not doing anything without Heero there," she said. Amazingly, her voice was perfectly steady. "It's a package deal."

Relena sighed and leaned sideways against Heero, then turned on the sofa, putting one foot on the arm. Her other leg stretched across the floor, and she raised her hands over her head, wrapping her arms around Heero's neck. Twisting in his arms, she arched her back, kissing him deeply.

When they broke the kiss, Heero's cheeks were red, but he was also making a strange sound, low in his throat. His eyes, over the top of her head, were glittering in the light. Duo knew an invitation when he saw one. He still didn't move, other than to place his glass on the table.

Heero's fingers were working at the buttons on Relena's blouse, and she spread her legs a bit wider. She looked dizzy, a bit tipsy, but not drunk, no, not on alcohol. Drunk on the delicious wickedness, the open invitation, knees spread and pale skin turning amber from the city lights. Heero's hand slipped into Relena's blouse, palming her breasts, and Relena bit down on her lower lip. Duo had no doubt she was completely ignorant of what that single movement would do, or the fact that Heero's intense gaze, spreading her blouse and undoing her bra, was equally disturbing and amazing.

It would have to be her idea, after all. She would never stay, he would never stay, unless they chose Duo and came to him. Duo remained where he was, waiting for the signal.

Her blouse was spread, small breasts revealed, and Relena released one arm from around Heero in a languid move, pulling up her skirt. Duo had been half-hard before, but to realize she was completely naked under the skirt, exposed, glistening. His cock stiffened, blood pounding in his ears with a rushing sound like a subway train scattering crows.

"Relena-girl," Duo groaned, suppressing a growl. "Heero... "

"Yes," Heero said. "She's beautiful."

Heero smiled, and ran his fingertip around one of Relena's nipples. An invitation, initiation, spread legs and pert breasts heaving with deep breaths. Duo slid from the chair onto his knees, and lifted the glass table out of the way, shoving it aside to give himself room. Settling onto the floor before Relena and Heero, he let his left hand fall on her knee; he placed his other hand on Heero's knee.

Both would have to choose him, if they were to stay.

Relena opened her mouth, a small pointed tongue darting out, and Duo did growl, couldn't hold it, and leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. She tasted like pears and apples and sweetness, tongue hesitant at first then exploring. He pulled away to lick at her lips, and once again, her forthright words shocked him.

"Now, kiss Heero," she demanded. "Commonwealth," she added, giving Heero a teasing look over her shoulder. "We share."

Heero's mouth fell open, stunned, and Duo chuckled before coming up on his knees to kiss Heero just as deeply. Heero didn't respond at first, accepting the kiss and shyly pulling away, but Duo followed, nipping, sucking, twisting to keep lips together. Heero's lips were slightly chapped, iron and sugar and sex and fear and anticipation.

Duo slid his hands upwards, nails scratching on Heero's slacks and Relena's soft skin, until his fingers brushed against her wetness and Heero's hardness. Duo pulled away from the kiss, and ran his fingers across both of them, reveling in the slack-jawed mouths, shuttered eyes. Heero tilted his hips upwards. Duo palmed the hardness at Heero's groin, undoing the buttons zippers cloth layers to expose Heero's stiff cock.

Relena moved against Duo's fingers, trying to goad him onwards, angling for his touch across her clit. He held his palm against her thighs, fingertips too light against her labia; she hissed and shifted her hips again, while Duo smiled to himself, leaning to suck at her closest nipple. He could feel her twisting above him to kiss Heero, and she gasped when Duo slammed two fingers deep inside her. Fingers massaging the damp warmth, he shifted his hand to caress her clit with his thumb, lightly; at the same time, he pumped Heero's cock: tight, hard: hold him close and firm, enough for freedom if he chooses but embracing...

Hands tugged at Duo's jeans, undoing them, and he realized it was both Heero and Relena. He chuckled around Relena's breast, and licked down her sternum. When he pulled his hand away, she whimpered, and he slid his arm around her waist, shifting upwards to lift her, and jerked her skirt down roughly. Heero realized Duo's intention, and pushed while Duo pulled, and Relena giggled when fingers ran across her thighs.

"Ticklish?" Duo threw the skirt on the floor and kissed where Heero's fingers had brushed her. He rose, lifting her onto Heero's lap.

Coming to his feet, he leaned over the sofa, hands on Heero's shoulders, encircling Relena. It was awkward, but he was ready, and she was wet, and Heero was pulling her legs apart as though he understood.

Duo kissed Heero again, slick wet hot, depth and rough tongue and taste of blood and sugar. Then Relena: sweet and cool in contrast, summer rain on hot sidewalks, hissing with contact. Duo's fingers ran down her breasts, around behind her to cup her ass, his fingertips sliding along Heero's length.

"You," he whispered to Relena. Looking past her, he gazed at Heero from under half-closed eyes. "Both of you."

"Yes," Relena moaned, and spread her legs, locking them around the back of Duo's knees until he nearly buckled.

"Yes," Heero echoed, his hand trailing down Duo's chest, pushing the shirt out of the way, to reach Duo's cock. Tentative, then firm, tugging, stroking, and Duo gasped at the touch. So sweet, so understanding without knowing what they granted.

"Mine," Duo gasped, and kissed Heero, hard, fast, possessive. "Mine," he repeated, and kissed Relena, who whimpered into his mouth. "Yours," he growled, and it felt like prayer, confession, like hot days and hotter nights banked under low clouds waiting for rain. Duo crouched down, shifted against Relena, and with one shove, rammed his cock deep into her.

Her shriek was caught in her throat, and Duo slid out, marveling at the tightness, the completeness, sucking and pulling at him, beseeching him. She canted her hips and he slammed into her again, leaning past her to kiss Heero deeply, tongue plunging into Heero's darkness with every drive into Relena.

Slowing, pulling from the kiss, Duo leaned back. He raised Relena's legs to his shoulders, and stared down at the dark crevice where his cock slid, disappearing into the glittering depths, warmth, slick, home. Placing his thumb on her clit, he began to massage, watching her hips jerk and matching his thrusts to hers. Heero's fingers pinched her nipples, palms against her breasts—she writhed between them, until her back arched and her scream was buried against Heero's lips, swallowed whole.

Again and again, Duo thrust, body shaking with the shuddery shivers of her cunt spasming against his cock—every move slapping his braid against his back—she was tightening, taking him in until he dropped his hand and dug fingers, claws, grip fast on her hips and raise the pace, slamming forward, hips in quick bursts, intense—drive inward tilt up press against her clit pull out slam in drive up—she gasped, back arching into Heero, body shaking—

Fire exploded in Duo's cock, rapid waves of light and ripples of pleasure spreading through his nerves to fire into his fingertips. He cried out, wordlessly, hips rocking slower, and again pressed thumb to her clit, rubbing furiously. She whimpered, aftershocks and buildings falling, glass breaking in the frantic pumping of her hips beneath him. Heero cried out and jerked his hips upward, his fingers clawing at Duo's thighs, eyes closed tight.

Duo smiled down at both of them, his rapid heart thundering in the wake of lightening, and slowly slid free of Relena. He let her legs down gently, then guided her to lie on her stomach. Heero was panting, shirt in disarray, eyes wide, mouth open, his own come splattered across Relena back and his pants and his shirt.

Bending down, Duo licked at Relena's ass, in little strokes then bolder ones, following the drips and juices and liquid, salt and bitter on his tongue but sweet, unrelenting. He knew the taste, knew the smell, and raised his fingers to lick them, and knew Relena, as well.

"You both taste wonderful," he whispered.

 

 

 

Relena yawned, stretching, her legs bent to the side, hanging off the sofa, knees on the carpet. She felt like moving, suggesting the bedroom, but was afraid the slightest word would break the spell and Duo would be gone. Perhaps if that were so, all his words, the medicines, the poison, the danger, the end: it would also be a dream, but she could feel the rough stubble of the sofa under her cheek, abrading her nipples and she knew she wanted him there.

Hands were running down her back, across her ass, sliding between her legs and massaging her clit. She buried her face against the sofa cushion, gasping, laughter bubbling in her throat at the ridiculous sensation of wriggling her hips against invisible fingers. She had no idea whose fingers were pumping in and out of her. Then they were gone and she flipped onto her back to find both Duo and Heero sucking on their fingers, looking pleased.

"Now, you," she said to Duo, and pointed.

She felt drunk, blissful, yet solid, grounded, real. Her shirt was twisted around her, bra caught in her armpits, but she couldn't be bothered to do anything. Duo's eyes were slits; he was a slim silhouette against the city sky pictures behind him, red-brown hair highlighted against red-blood-gray and heat. She felt drunk, and thought: this is what it means, and wondered why her mind skittered and jumped from image to thought. The smell of dinner and pears and sex and hunger: so strong, so wonderful.

"What about me," Duo coaxed, teasing. His hands slid up Heero's thighs, and Relena shifted again to rest her head against the loveseat's arm. Duo smiled at her, then ducked his head to lick at Heero's half-hard cock. Duo raised his head, and looked at Heero, who made a soft sound in his throat. "What about me, Relena-girl," he said again.

"We're both yours," Relena replied, and it seemed like the right thing to say. Perhaps the wrong things, the bad things, the correct things were miles distant, across a cheap blue rug and through a plate-glass window down six stories to the dirty ground below. But she was high up, high, and it didn't matter. "So you have to have both of us." She sighed and threw her arms over her head, giggling when Heero laid his hand across her crotch, thumb flicking at her clit. "We share."

"I'll share," Duo said, and it sounded like a growl in his words, a dangerous promise. "But only with you two. No one else."

"No one else," Heero said, and leaned over to kiss Duo.

Relena watched, satisfaction and smugness and pleasure; her hips rocked gently against Heero's hand, gone lax as he focused on chasing Duo's tongue. Open-mouthed, wet kisses, lips glistening in the low light.

Heero's shirt was pulled open, pushed back, pinning his arms to his sides, and he slouched on the sofa. Relena pulled her legs out of the way, folding them under her, and ran her hands across her belly: the heat was settling into her gut, radiating, and her thighs felt slick, sticky. Heero raised his hips for Duo to pull off the slacks, the boxers, sliding down muscled thighs, dark hair revealed at the juncture of thigh and hip, cock rising up from the curls.

He was beautiful. A word she could use: amazing, wonderful, but beautiful. Duo sat back, his arms going over his head to strip off his shirt and toss it aside. The movement made his shoulder blades shift beneath skin, no wartime scars like Heero's chest and hip, but smooth, muscles corded lean in broad shoulders, strong arms, fingers pressing into Heero's legs, until Duo leaned over and took Heero's cock in his mouth.

"Ah," Heero said, abruptly, and arched his back, hips jerking.

Duo's head rose and fell, and his lips pulled back, baring teeth. Duo turned to the side, gaze finding Relena, and she smiled back at him, running her hand down to cup herself, fingers prodding gently at the fiery remnants of Duo's seed. Spice and heat: yes, Heero should know this too, be marked. Duo let go of Heero's cock and came to his feet in a graceful uncoiling, not awkward but certain, powerful—Relena could see the beauty there was different from Heero's. One was consuming passion, the other a lazy strength that was strong because it had no need to flaunt. It simply was.

And she was his, and soon, so would be Heero. She realized she was holding her breath.

Duo ran his hands through Heeros' hair, gripping at the roots, and Heero tilted back his head to stare upward. Communion, communication; Heero's gaze ran down Duo and back up again, holding contact, moving forward, taking Duo's cock in his mouth. Duo groaned, a hand on Heero's head, guiding, and then nodded at Relena. When she gave him a quizzical look, he pointed to his bag, left at the end of the loveseat.

Relena flipped onto her stomach, grabbing the bag, and out fell a small jar. Duo made a noise, and she picked up the jar.

"Yes," Duo said, one hand running across Heero's face, down his jaw. Heero's hands clutched at Duo's hips, mouth spread, eyes still raised to stare at Duo, who grinned and nodded, encouraging, whispering. "That's right. Take it all, Heero-boy. Be greedy."

Relena was struck by the sound of Duo's voice, where before there had been only silence. But Heero's eyes drifted closed to the smacking of lip on flesh and sucking, Duo groaning, and Relena fumbled with her shirt, stripping off the last of her clothes before struggling with the jar, opening it up. She dropped the cap on the floor and held the jar within reach of Duo's hand, but he smiled at her, flexing his hips again, driving into Heero's mouth.

"You," Duo said, and bent over to brush a thumb across her nipple. He pulled a little, guiding her upwards to kiss him. She was on her knees, balanced awkwardly but if she fell, they would both catch her.

And then she understood what he expected, and wondered how he knew. Dipping her fingers into the jar, she used her other hand to tug at Heero's hips. Between Duo and herself, Heero shifted, springs creaking under his knees in time with Duo's grunts. And then Relena was poised, Heero's back curved to press his face into Duo's groin, ass presented, and she rubbed her finger across the little hole, watching Duo's slow, lazy smile as he continued to thrust, gentle, long, in and out of Heero's mouth.

"Yes," Duo said, and Relena pressed a finger into Heero.

Heero pulled away from Duo's cock, keening high-pitched whine, body bucking, but Relena pushed her finger in, all the way. Duo made a shushing sound, hands petting Heero's face, neck, running through his hair to guide his open mouth back to Duo's cock.

Relena could only stare, palm splayed against Heero's ass, finger buried, tight constricting heat startling frightening amazing. Broad back, muscles tightening and flexing beneath skin and scars, dark hair and golden skin. Above him towered Duo, hips thrusting, controlled, knowing, stomach coiling and contracting, broad chest, and that braid slithering across his back with each move, swaying behind him like a tail, a live thing, an echo of his movement.

She swallowed hard; wetness was running down the inside of her thighs and her finger felt like all circulation was being cut off, but it was warm, spongy, and she pulled her finger out only to press in again. Heero bucked, and she increased the pace, then impulsively added a second finger, ramming both in. It felt like the muscles in Heero's ass were about to break the slender bones, crush her, but he moaned and suddenly it was easier, easy to slide forward, wrist and arm moving against him, and he pushed against her, impaling himself, cock falling from his mouth as he cried out.

Duo growled low in his throat, a threat, and Relena pulled back as Duo spun Heero on the loveseat until he was facing Relena. Duo poised behind Heero, looking downwards. Relena grabbed her shirt from the floor, wiping her fingers and turning in time to see Heero—eyes closed, teeth on lip, scowl tense lowered brows—jerk away from Duo and upward.

"Mine," Duo snarled, and his hands were around Heero's waist, quick to cover Heero's chest to grab his shoulders, pulling him down again. Then Duo glanced at Relena before biting down on Heero's shoulder, pulling him downward. Teeth bared, flashing in the amber shadows and Heero cried out, full-throated, thrashing in Duo's grip. Relena cowered, uncertain, but she throbbed, her gut warmed, and she added her voice to Heero's cries, hands running down his chest to wrap around his cock.

"Yes, his, be his," she murmured, and had no idea why but Duo's eyes were wide and pleased and that was all she needed.

Then Heero's back arched, he cried out, drowning Duo's loud grunt. Hands clenching into fists—rising to his knees, Duo pressed into him. Sweat beads glittered on Heero's upper lip, skin-slick when Relena stroked his cock, kneeling below the two men, a prayer below idols, coaxing pleasure from Heero's taut body. Duo's hips shifted, and Heero moaned, shuddering. Duo released his bite, licking skin, hands gripping Heero's shoulders and jerking him down, rough cry torn from Heero's throat.

Snarling, Duo thrust again, fierce, harsh, and Relena skittered backwards as the two men fell forward. Heero struggled, crying out in unknown language of protest and plea while Duo rode him, pressing Heero forward into Relena's stomach, and Heero fought, writhing between them. She felt no fear, only fascination, and somehow certain Heero would not hurt her—he would cease to fight, give in, accept, receive before he'd ever risk her pain. Knowing that, she arched her back into him, pushing him up to Duo, who grinned slyly, and shoved Heero back down.

Expanse of skin, thrust and slam and skin slap on skin and she shivered at the memory of Duo within her. Heero's skin sweat and sugar against her, pressing close and she pushed Heero up and slithered down below him. He clung blindly to her, head buried in her neck—Duo leaned over him, snapping at skin, braid sliding across to thump against the sofa with each powerful thrust.

Relena caught the braid, holding on, and with her other hand reached for Heero's cock, guiding it between her legs. There was no room on the loveseat, too many legs and arms and the coarse fabric scratched her back but she could rub the head of Heero's cock against herself. Above her Heero arched his back, grunting, ramming himself backwards, chin up, mouth open breathless.

"Mine," Duo said, hoarse, commanding, and Heero cried out, jerking.

"Yours," Heero whispered.

Words caught lost in the darkness and Relena tightened her grip, rubbing furiously, hips canting arching while Duo pressed down from above. Heero's eyes flew open, unseeing, and Relena lost her grip on his cock, slithering wet and slick hot between her fingers. Duo's words became growls, pleased keening and he shuddered, pumping his hips a few more times, rocking Heero against Relena, and she cried out, lost again in a final shock riveting her body, fire along her skin.

Heero sighed, and Duo pulled him backwards, still trapped on Duo's cock. Duo's hands ran down Heero's chest, played with the dark nipples, glanced across the planes and concave and strength of Heero's stomach down to brush across black hair and limp, spent cock.

"Come here, Relena-girl," Duo said, beckoning. He held out a hand, assisting her up to a kneel, facing them; the balls of her feet were pressed tight against the arm, her knees against Heero's. "Here," and he guided her mouth to Heero's.

The kiss was tentative at first, but Heero roused, one hand wrapping around Relena's waist, pulling her close as his tongue dove into the mouth. He tasted like sweat sex bitterness and sugar blood pears. She rubbed against him, her clit throbbing, spicy heat along her thighs and she wanted more. Duo guided her motions, rocking against Heero, who moaned in the kiss and broke away, leaning backward.

Relena ran her hands down Heero's chest, and bent to suck on a nipple until he squirmed at her nipping teeth. She came up on her knees and leaned past Heero to kiss Duo, who chuckled into her mouth.

"The bed would be better, if you'll let me on it," he said, and somehow it made perfect sense for her to smile and reach around Heero to embrace Duo, running her nails down his back. He shivered, eyes shuttering, and she did it again.

"The bed," she promised, and extricated herself from the loveseat, standing over the two men.

Duo pulled backwards with a groan, and Heero turned to her, clasping her tightly, his face against her breasts. He shuddered, a soft almost-word lost in his breathing, and Relena leaned over to see Duo's fingers sliding into Heero, pumping gently before stilling, deep within Heero's ass. After a moment, Duo let his hand fall away, and moved around Heero, helping him up.

Relena had to laugh, swaying unsteadily. "My legs are wobbly," she announced. She moved out of the way for the two men to stand. "I feel dizzy."

Heero tensed, but strangely Duo did, as well. For a moment their countenances were identical: possessive, worried, protective.

"No," Relena said, waving her hands at them. She backed up, studying their figures in the half-light, the unreality of the broad window feeling like a display case. The city had watched them, silent, unforgiving and she was a pretty doll in the window for a moment. She swayed, feeling the weight, but Duo murmured something and Heero reached for her and the feeling was gone, she felt light, knew the height, reaching upward and she laughed. "I think I'm drunk," she said, "but not on pears."

Duo chuckled, and Heero joined in, leaning weakly against Duo. Relena stepped forward, wrapping her arms around both, and kissed each—chaste, lips passing across lips, rough skin and sweet taste—and leaned back to smile up at them.

"Bedroom," she told them. "I have it on good authority that I'm not likely to get pregnant from just one try."

Duo made an exasperated sound, but he was smiling; he knew the joke but he shook his head, tired. "Relena-girl, don't know if you've registered this, but Heero-boy and I are wiped out."

"I want more," Relena said, sulking. "I don't feel pregnant yet. How long can you stay?"

"Until day after tomorrow," Duo replied. "There's plenty of time—"

"Right. We can start now."

She tugged at both of them, and they stumbled forward, a creature of arms and legs and lips finding skin, sucking, nipping, laughing at the bump against wall and cool door to tumble several more steps and fall, blind, onto a bed. Relena rolled over and sat up, straddling Duo's thighs, and wrapped her hands around her breasts, holding them up as if offering. Heero grinned from where he lay by Duo, and ran a hand down the flat planes of Duo's stomach to take Duo's cock in his hand. It was soft, but hardening with the attention, and Duo pretended to groan and swat at Heero's hand.

"We are going to fuck," Relena said, and pinched her nipples. Heero's eyes were glazing, his cock hardening gradually; Duo's hands gripped her hips, and he thrust upwards, rocking the base of his cock against her pelvic bone. Relena grinned, triumphantly. "And we are going to keep doing it until I'm pregnant or you've both collapsed."

"What a way to go," Duo said, but anything else he had to say was swallowed in Heero's mouth.

Relena watched, pleased.


	6. Chapter 6

_"the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising and the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors"_  
— Carl Ginsburg

 

 

Heero woke up to several sensations at once. Sound: water running, splashing, which he groggily identified as someone in the shower. Sight: a fair stretch of skin, and too-bright sunlight beyond that. Taste: pears, sugar, and something bitter, the foulness of a mouth after sleep. Scent: musk, heavy with sex, spice of cinnamon. Touch: A warm body beneath him and beside him.

His right hand was curled, fist against his chest, and his head was pillowed on someone's shoulder. His left hand was stretched down and across muscled flat planes, grasping a quickly stiffening erection. Heero jerked away, and the chest under him rumbled.

"Hey, hey, no squeezing," Duo murmured, and Heero was gently shoved back down. "You two..."

"What... " Heero coughed a little to clear his throat, but didn't try to move away. Instead he found himself curling up closer; one leg was draped across Duo's, intertwined. "What about us?"

"Relena-girl didn't let go of my braid the entire night," Duo said, chuckling. The motion made Heero's head rise and fall, and he rode with it, savoring the warmth. "Her other hand was on you. Meanwhile, you had your hand on my dick." Duo shifted above Heero, then lips were pressed to Heero's forehead. "Don't remember, do you."

"Oh." Heero thought to move his hand, but Duo bucked his hips slightly, and there was no question: hand would stay where it was. "Sorry."

"Don't. You fell asleep... mid-stroke. Right out." Duo chuckled again.

"Glad to see someone finds it amusing." Heero rubbed his nose against Duo's collarbone. "I'm sleeping."

"Finish what you started," Duo whispered.

Heero raised his head, stunned. "How... What  _are_  you?"

Duo laughed out loud, then. "Male, Heero-boy. We slept for ten hours... isn't that enough time to recover?"

"Oh." Heero considered his own state of affairs.

His ass was sore; his legs felt leaden but nothing that wouldn't be fine after a bit of stretching. His own dick was hardening as well, pressed up against Duo's hip. He flexed his hand, and Duo made that strange rumbling sound in his throat again, ending on a soft whine. Heero smiled despite his attempt to look grumpy, and scooted down the bed, dragging his mouth along Duo's chest. He shifted, pushing Duo's leg's apart, and settled down, his hands on Duo's thighs, staring at Duo's cock. It was thicker than he'd realized—though it had certainly filled him to the bursting point, the night before—and for a moment he cringed at the memory.

He leaned over, and the motion made his shoulder twinge. Abruptly he sat up, putting a hand on his shoulder. Lowering his hand, he stared down at the dried flakes of blood, then at Duo, whose smug grin had an edge of wariness.

"You... bit me," Heero said.

"You challenged me," Duo retorted.

"Did not." Heero sat back on his haunches, and crossed his arms. "You were far too large—"

"Thanks for the compliment, Heero-boy, but... " Duo pulled his legs from around Heero and sat up, shifting into a crouch, balanced neatly in the center of the bed. His braid dangled down his chest, swaying. His eyes narrowed into pleased slits, and he murmured, "I like you tight."

Heero couldn't help but gasp, and part of it was annoyance at the sensation of his face heating up. He scowled at Duo.

The water shut off, and Relena stepped from the bathroom. Heero turned to see her strolling past, rubbing her head with the towel. Normally she'd wear the soft pink robe he'd gotten her as a continuation of their joke, but this time she simply strolled to the edge of the bed as if utterly unaware of her nudity.

"Shower's free," she said, and then Heero realized: Relena wasn't quite meeting Duo's eyes. "Ah... anyone hungry?"

"Starving," Duo said, and grumbled under his breath when Heero managed to move away from him. Duo shook his head and yanked Heero back on the bed. "Dibs on the shower." He rolled off the bed to come to his feet, pressed up against Relena. She squeaked, then relaxed into his arms when he simply gave her a hug. "Morning... or afternoon, actually."

"Afternoon?" Heero rubbed his head and blinked at the clock. "Four! It's four... crap." He fell back on the bed, and rolled over to grab the nearest pillow. "I was supposed to meet Trowa at one for a late lunch."

"Call him while I make... dinner, I guess," Relena replied. She left the room, returning a minute later to dump the phone on the bed. Duo strolled to the bathroom, after one last grope at Relena's breast, and she swatted him. Duo pouted, and she held her breasts, thumb and forefinger of each hand squeezing her nipples. "See these? These will be for the baby!"

"But not yet!" Duo bent down and dove into her, a shoulder against her stomach, sending her falling backwards onto the bed. They fell next to Heero, who came up on his elbows, curious. Duo leered at Heero, and crooked a finger. Then Duo lowered his head to Relena's breast, tonguing at the nipple, then suckling, his jaw moving slightly.

Relena arched her back, gasping, and Duo glanced across her to Heero, whose cock tightened, swelled, and hardened at the image. Nodding, Heero crawled forward to place his mouth against Relena's other breast, flicking his tongue back and forth across the nipple, then sucking gently. When she whimpered, he began to suck in earnest, almost certain he could taste something different about her. She moaned; her movements became rhythmic. Heero opened his eyes, looking across her stretch of pale stomach to see Duo's cock sliding into her, then pulling out again, a steady movement.

Heero ran his fingers across her stomach and down to fondle her clit, fingertips brushing along Duo's cock with every stroke.

"Yeah," Duo groaned, and thrust harder. "Like that... "

Relena whimpered, and Heero rubbed, pressing—firm, then gentle—and she bucked against his hand. Duo grinned, then bit his lip, angling his hips in short, abrupt bursts, and Relena pulled her legs up to hook her ankles behind Duo's neck. His guttural cry shook Heero, and Relena echoed it, her hips arching against Heero's fingers. Heero immediately lowered his mouth to her nipple again, sucking, and Duo leaned over, joining him, hips still pressing in and up against Relena, pinning Heero's fingers between their bodies.

Duo slowed into long, lazy thrusts, until he stilled, panting heavily. His arms corded, muscles rippling in chest and arms, holding him up over Relena. She giggled and ran her fingers along Heero's head and neck. He raised his head, and she frowned lightly, fingering the bite on his shoulder.

"You've marked him so prettily," she pouted. If Heero hadn't known better, he would have thought she glowed. "What about me?"

"Oh, you're marked," Duo replied, leaning over to kiss her.

When he pulled away, just a bit, Heero watched their tongues flick, open-mouthed sloppy wet, saliva running across Relena's lips.

"I want more," she muttered, and arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward.

Duo chuckled, and curled over to bite her breast, jaw working against her skin. She cried out, eyes opening, and Heero immediately kissed her, swallowing her cries until they faded into whimpers. He pulled away from the kiss to see Relena's gaze unfocused, a slight smile; she looked drunk, pleased, sated.

Duo raised his head, licking his lips, a slash of crimson at the edge of his mouth. Wide-eyed, Heero stared down at Relena's right breast and the imprint of teeth marks just over her heart. The tiny punctures seemed to glow, blood seeping gently across her damp skin, and some distant part of Heero wondered why he so craved a taste. He hesitated, then looked up at Duo, who smiled and leaned back, running a finger along Heero's jaw and guiding his face to Relena's chest. She whimpered, and Heero realized the two were still joined. He twitched his fingers to get feeling back, and ran a tongue across her breast, licking the nipple before sucking on the wounds.

Iron, blood, and the faintest taste of sugar, pears...

He moved his fingers again, and Duo began shifting against Relena. She cried out, hips jolting, and Duo leaned over, pinning Heero between them. A loop, he decided: his tongue and jaw, his fingers and palm, moving against her, and she'd bring her hips up, her back arching, and Duo would angle down against her in time—for each stroke, a response, linked together. The wound on Heero's shoulder throbbed; a finger, then two, grasped his hips, and dug into his ass, pushing deep. Heero rubbed his cock against Relena's hips and the blanket, feeling the orgasm build, moving at Duo's direction.

Duo groaned, pulling away from Relena, and she dropped her legs. Heero gasped, feeling something large at his ass, and then yelled as Duo slammed into him. Too large, too full, but so complete, the world swam in Heero's vision. Duo clawed at his hips, while Relena sat up to suck on the bitemark on his shoulder, then at each nipple. It felt like the two had reached deep inside him, grabbing the core of his being, and were yanking it, inch by inch, thrust by suck by ramming blow, out of him.

Every heartbeat—balls slapping against the top of his thighs, Duo growling in his ear, Relena's mouth on his shoulder—the blood sugar late afternoon sun turning her hair to gold and Duo's braid to fire... it wasn't right. It wasn't rules and regulations and proper tie length and a nice winter coat. It wasn't dinner in the kitchen and a movie before bed. It was so...  _unlike_  anything he'd ever known, and Heero could only shove back, impaling himself, he could feel every inch of Duo sliding into him, hard, then slow, furious...

Raw.

Every stroke ripped away the veneer of his life. Obey this order. Watch that exit. Be polite in public. Be gentle in private. Take care for the breakables—but now Relena was growling, biting his neck, arching past him to kiss Duo, the wet sucking sounds of their mouths against his ear—

Primitive.

Heero thrust backwards, with all his strength, almost bucking Duo off, but Duo laughed wickedly and held on. The fire licked across Heero's skin, pouring from every cell, the tight hold around his chest and the nails clawing at his sides, his hips, and he realized—

Free.

His cock caught between Relena's legs, pressed against the wild wetness, and he threw his head back, screaming as he came. His entire body clenched, arched, upward, supported not captured and he spasmed. Duo grunted, yelled, and sudden heat flooded Heero's body. Relena was murmuring something, kissing him deeply and he couldn't focus, couldn't figure out where to hold onto or where to fall but let those around him catch him, suspended...

He was laid down, the words fading in his mind, and he could only laugh, smiling as one kissed him, then the other, sweet tastes of blood and sex and jism and the fury of everything swirling in him, rich and raw and completely free.

 

 

 

Relena sat up and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, trying to catch her breath. Heero had seemed to fall back to sleep, or perhaps passed out; she wasn't sure. Duo collapsed on the bed next to Heero, and clasped his hands behind his head, grinning widely.

"Is he... going to be okay?" It wasn't normal to see her husband so... feral. It was the only word that would fit the way he'd moved, the sounds he'd made. The night before, when he'd struggled against Duo, she would've thought that was the most she'd ever seen, but just now... last night had been gentle, restrained in comparison. She sighed, and ran a finger across the wound on Heero's shoulder. "I should get a bandage for these... "

"They'll heal. Let them have air," Duo replied. He grinned, revealing even, white teeth. "I forget my eyeteeth are so sharp. If you have any cream, that'll prevent a scar."

"I want a scar," Relena said, before she'd thought of what exactly she was saying. Duo's eyes went wide, then he smiled—not predatory, nor guarded, but an open, sweet, smile.

He held out a hand, guiding her around Heero. "Come here, Relena-girl," Duo murmured, letting her settle down across him.

Heero grumbled and rolled over to press himself against Duo, nuzzling Duo's shoulder. Duo chuckled, and shifted until he could run a hand through Heero's hair, soothing the tangles until Heero quieted down again.

"See," Duo whispered, and Relena could hear the echoes in his chest of every word, "Heero-boy was willing... but it's one thing to be willing and another thing to let go."

"Let go," Relena repeated, dubious.

"Yeah. You can give to another person," Duo said, and kissed her on the forehead, brushing damp hair from her face. "Or you can sit back and let them take whatever they want, but not actually help. That's not letting go, that's giving in."

She tried to follow his logic, but wasn't sure. It felt... familiar. Like it was something that had made sense, the night before. "Last night," she said, hesitant, "I felt drunk but I felt like everything smelled... smelled more? That doesn't make sense. Everything was sharper. Louder, fiercer, like touch and sound and taste... "

Duo murmured something inaudible, a rumble under her ear. It sounded like he was surprised.

"And I just kept feeling like I wanted to give it all away. Not just me. But everything... ditch the apartment, the stuff, go run through the streets naked... " She giggled, pressing her fist against her mouth to stifle the girlish sound. "I think that's what Heero was feeling, just now. He looked like I must've, last night."

"Hmm." Duo twisted sideways to kiss Heero again, then smiled. "Yes, I think you're right."

Relena lifted her head, noting the odd smile on her husband's lax face. "Did I look like that, too?"

"Absolutely." Duo leered, and licked her chin. "Several times." He nibbled her nose before dropping his head back on the pillow. "That would be the look of the totally and completely well-fucked." He shifted his arm around Heero to point at his own face. "Note example A."

"Oh, you." Relena snorted and poked him in the side. He laughed, and she did it again, until Heero mumbled something, and they both subsided. Falling quiet again, they lay in silent companionship until another idea occurred to her. "Why doesn't it feel... strange?"

"What doesn't?"

"To be here... I mean, I'm naked. And I just had sex with you and watched you have sex with my  _husband_ —"

"Which we did for about ten hours last night, too," Duo pointed out. He seemed amused.

"I know, and my point is... is... " She swallowed hard. "I don't feel... guilty."

"Guilty? For what?"

"Being... " She searched for a word, but from the smile on Duo's face, and the arch of his eyebrow, she figured he knew what she meant. "Not being a good girl," she finally said, sighing.

"Oh, Relena-girl, you are  _very_  good," he chuckled, a low sexy sound that make her stomach quiver and her crotch dampen. "Both of you are so deliciously good... if I could, I would never leave."

That brought down her mood. They'd slept half the day, and he'd be leaving in the morning. "Are you sure you can't stay? Just a little longer?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

He yanked her upwards, and kissed her deeply. She could taste Heero on her tongue, and Duo, and something else that was everything, but so faintly wonderful. It was rain, perhaps, but not in a bottle but in blood and sweat and sex.

She pulled away from the kiss with a sigh, and Duo managed a smile, but it looked a little forced. Relena frowned, and stroked the side of his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he didn't quite meet her gaze. "If I could, I would."

"It's okay," she replied, shushing him, placing gentle kisses across his face.

Heero moved beside them, coming up on one elbow. When Relena pulled back, she was surprised to find Heero giving Duo the same light kisses across his cheek and brow, as well.

"I know you're the kind who travels," she continued, wishing she could put that smile back on Duo's face, wipe the hint of sadness from his eyes. "But you'll come back, to visit... right?"

"Yes," and Duo turned his head, kissing Heero, tongues twirling and fighting, until Heero pulled away with a smile, panting.

She impulsively leaned over Duo and kissed Heero, their faces so close to Duo, and rubbed herself against Duo, tilting her hips against his crotch as his fingers ran across her face. When she opened her eyes, she could see Duo, in the corner of her vision, watching them kiss. He looked pleased, sated, and still sad. She couldn't think of what else to do, but slid off him, and she nudged Heero, poking him.

Heero seemed to understand immediately, and he moved to kneel beside Duo, his hand wrapping around Duo's cock with no hesitation. Heero's face was half-hidden by his hand and Duo's cock; he was sucking on Duo's balls, then the inside of Duo's hips while he pumped his hand. Duo grunted, hips thrusting in surprise, and Relena knelt on the other side, facing her husband. She pressed her mouth to Duo's chest, chewing at his nipples, flicking the other with her fingers. With every nail scratch and claw across his chest, Duo moaned, hips bucking, and Heero echoed the sound, until Relena joined Heero, laving and biting the inside of Duo's other thigh, then his balls.

Duo's hand ran across Relena's skin to push between her legs, and she rode his fingers shamelessly, letting the crazy sensations flood her body. A thumb pushed into her ass, and she whimpered at the sudden pressure, fullness—Duo's other fingers flicked at her clit, and she doubled her efforts on his nipples. Heero's right hand was stroking Duo's cock in slow, strong motions, jaw extended, blue eyes glittering in satisfaction.

Relena cried out at the sensation of a thumb and forefinger pushed into her, rubbing against each other from the inside, and she shook, shudders running from her scalp down to her crotch. She sucked harder, biting and scratching with her hands, her hips rocking helplessly on ring finger and index finger extended against her clit.

When she came, she screamed; a second later, Duo did the same, followed in a moment by Heero's deep, satisfied grunt. Relena collapsed, face against Duo's stomach, and saw her husband's lips curve in a pleased smile. Heero opened his eyes, and smiled at her, then sat up, twisting to stare at Duo.

Relena followed the motion, and the fingers inside her were driven deeper. On Duo's other side, Heero crouched, apparently caught and held in much the same way. Duo looked smug, and Relena couldn't help it. She popped him in the side.

"You seem way too pleased with yourself," she announced. He moved his fingers, and she promptly rubbed against his palm, fully aware her eyes were rolling back in her head. "I think," she said, trying to get her bearings back, "that if there were a lifetime quota on orgasms I may have just gone over my limit."

"Have to take out an advance on the next lifetime," Duo joked.

"Or two," Heero growled, but the last word became more of a whine, and he shot a glare over his shoulder at Duo, but it didn't hold much conviction. "We should eat at some point," Heero reminded them, then frowned. "And I still need to call Trowa."

"Shower," Duo said, and withdrew his fingers. He sat up between them, giving them both an abashed smile. "You two are going to kill me. I swear."

"Great. Hurry back," Relena chirped, and Duo laughed. Heero chuckled, moving to take Duo's place, his arms wrapped around her waist. She reached behind her, grasping his cock and pumping a few times.

"Ten minutes, please," Heero gasped, moving away from her hand. He fell backwards, and she fell with him. In the bathroom, the water started, and Heero chuckled, exhausted. "I want to be inside you so badly... "

"Hunh?" She twisted against his arms, until she'd rolled over to face him. He'd said it with such an odd note... "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's... nothing's wrong, at all!" Heero's eyes were wide, innocent, shining. "I want more. More and more. I've never felt this way. It's always been, this is how much, and that's where it stops. I've never questioned that. But I feel... " He frowned, words fading, and sighed. "But it's going away now. Still there, but not as strong... "

"I've noticed that," Relena whispered. "Last night... " She checked over her shoulder, making sure the bathroom door was closed. "When Duo got up to use the bathroom, after a minute it felt like... something had gone out of the air. I wonder what it is."

"Pheromones. Hormones. Whatever it is," Heero replied, in a lazy tone. "I'm sure there's a scientific reason."

"Something that makes us insatiable when he's around?" Relena sniffed. "I doubt that. Science debunked that working for humans. Long time ago. Our sense of smell isn't good enough."

"No idea." Heero shrugged, then smiled, running sticky fingers through her hair. "You're so amazing. Beautiful, and then watching you come... "

"Hurry up and get another hard-on," Relena replied, giggling when Heero raised his eyebrows at the language. "I think we should give Duo a show, too."

"Really."

"Yeah." Relena moved to face the bathroom door, on her hands and knees, and looked over her shoulder at Heero. "What are you waiting for?"

Heero merely groaned, coming to his knees, one hand on his cock. He stroked himself, long and hard, until he was erect. Relena whimpered at the sight, and wiggled her ass to remind him. He chuckled, and slapped her lightly before placing his cock against her.

"Damn, you're soaking," he said.

"And I want you to hurry up and fuck me, now," she growled. "Don't make me wait."

Heero looked surprised, then grinned wickedly and slammed into her. She cried out, finding the quick rhythm instinctively, shoving backwards with every thrust of Heero's muscular hips against her ass.

It was so much. It felt like every molecule of her body had to have been asleep for twenty-four years, hibernating, waiting, until that right moment to awaken and cry for the light. She could feel every strand of sweat and sex damp hair across her back, stuck to her face, slapping against her breasts as she rocked back and forth. Heero's hands on her hips, harsh breath, the light in the window, the white sheets stained with blood and sex and sugar pressed into the palm of her hands, crumpled under her knees.

It was everything, and so was she.

 

 

 

Duo tested the water one last time, listening to the cries in the bedroom, and grinned to himself. He'd had an effect on others—Hilde often reported the same thing herself—but he'd never seen anyone take to it so strongly. In some ways it was as though Relena and Heero  _reveled_  in the sexuality, the sensuality, and held nothing back. It had started with Relena, giving with both hands, pushing herself fully into him without reservation. Heero was more guarded—Duo suspected it was a mental habit from years of protecting Relena—but once he'd finally broken through...

The hot water prickled on Duo's skin, and he carefully undid his braid before letting his hair fall, water streaming down his back. He popped open the bottle of shampoo: vanilla. Heero's shampoo. Duo grinned and lathered up, letting the suds roll down his body before using Relena's conditioner to soak his hair while he scrubbed his body with the soap.

Over the rush of the water, he could hear a deep shout, and he chuckled. Yeah, those two were voracious. Dun ran a soapy hand across his crotch, scratching at his pubic hairs, soaping up the matted, sticky mess, then rinsing it out. His cock remained limp, spent, and he shook his head.

"Yeah, you're as beat as I am," he muttered to it, amused.

The thought of every morning waking to such attention—his muscles ached in delicious pleasure at the memory of both of them, mouths and hands on his body, while he pressed fingers into them...

Down, boy, he reminded himself. It won't last forever. First, Relena's scent had already changed. Between falling asleep just before dawn and waking up, she'd taken on a stronger taste, of power and cinnamon. She was definitely pregnant, and her body was already beginning to give off a scent that made Duo want to prowl the hallway in front of their door, ready to attack the first male who tried to come near her.

Except Heero, of course. Duo couldn't help but grin at that; nine months of guarding her, and at least he'd have Heero—

No, not really, will you...

Duo sighed and leaned his head back, letting the water run down his hair, conditioner coating his legs and washing away in the drain. He turned under the spray again, enjoying the hot water, knowing it would probably be awhile before he had it again. He sighed, and placed a hand on the tiles, seeing his fingertips turn white with the pressure of hand on ceramic.

He'd given them what he could, and what he had would serve him, just fine. Except he'd been terribly selfish about it, and he sighed heavily, leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against the tiles as well. The water pummeled him, and he tried to relax, pull himself together. It didn't work, not well enough to hide the sharp tang of tension and worry. They wouldn't sense it, but he knew it was there.

They had a good life. Any child would be loved, and lavished with whatever little they could afford, and it wouldn't be a child raised in stupidity or ignorance, but affection and the best education they could manage. He knew that. He knew no child of theirs would lack for love, even if the food was from cans and the sun hidden by tall buildings and the sidewalks dirty with trash. There was plenty Duo could give, and he'd give with both hands, but wasn't what he'd given already enough?

It was just easier to know that he'd given what they could take. He would leave it at that, and love them not as he wanted, but as they needed.

He sighed one last time and shut off the water.

 

 

 

Proper dining was a foreign concept, it seemed, given that all three were naked. The very idea of sitting down at the table seemed laughable. Heero brought out all their food from the fridge, and Relena ate from the plastic containers with her fingers, shoving food between Duo's lips when he opened his mouth to speak. Duo sputtered, chewing, and Heero laughed, leaning against the fridge, naked.

"He doesn't like tomatoes," Heero observed.

Relena made a face, and picked out a stewed tomato from the leftover stew. "Sure he does. Watch." She handed the container to Heero, and placed the squishy tomato slice across her nipple, leaning back so it wouldn't slide off. "How about now?"

Duo seemed to consider that, then pouted. "You're wasting a perfectly good breast."

Heero laughed, and ate the tomato off her, then sank to his knees, pushing his tongue between her legs. Relena swatted at his head.

"Hey, now, that's dessert!"

He redoubled his efforts, tongue flicking at her clit, and she giggled, rocking her hips against him until she came. The soft shudders ran across her skin, prickling at her fingers, soft warmth flooding her belly. Heero leaned back to grin up at her, tomato juice and her own slickness slathered across his face.

Duo leaned over and licked Heero's face clean, then stood up. "Sweet, with an aftertaste of tomato." He flicked his tongue at Relena.

"Still hungry," Relena said, and opened the pantry. When Duo moved to stand behind her, stiff cock pressed against her ass, she giggled. "You two! We'll never get any food in us at this rate!"

"You started it," Heero replied, and reached past her for the crackers. She grabbed his cock, squeezing, and he kissed her deeply, one hand still digging in the cupboard for the little can of pate they'd been saving.

"Less talk," Duo ordered. "More food, more sex."

"Roger that," Heero said, and spun Relena around, his cock pressed up against her. He looked over his shoulder at Duo, who set the container of chicken aside and moved to stand behind Heero, who leaned back for a long kiss before pulling away. With no warning, he shoved into Relena, who grunted, and raised a leg to wrap around both he and Duo. A moment later he tensed, then relaxed, looking startled. "What the hell... "

"Pesto," Duo said, licking his fingers. He moved, hips arching forward, and Heero was shoved further into Relena, who squeaked. Duo grinned at her over Heero's shoulder. "Not sure this will work... how's your balance?"

"Shut up and push!" Relena said, then yelped when her lower back hit the edge of the counter. "Oh, wait, ow!"

Duo laughed, and pulled backward. "See?" He ran a tongue along Heero's neck, sucking at the fading bite mark. "Okay, Heero-boy, fuck her like she wants... I'm gonna watch."

Heero moaned, and buried his head against Relena's neck, setting her up on the countertop, his hands gripping her ass while she clutched his shoulder and flailed for purchase against the upper cabinet doors. She rode with the motions, letting him drive at his own pace, and held on tightly when he came. Duo had perched himself on the counter, and was stroking his cock lazily.

"If you wash off that pesto," Relena told him, "I'll finish the job."

"You don't like pesto?" Duo reached for the dishtowel crumpled by the sink, and obediently wet it down. "You'll eat tomatoes but not basil?"

Relena wrinkled her nose, and let her leg fall from around Heero's waist. Wet dripped down the insides of her thighs, and she spread her legs, wiping her hand across her crotch. Knowing exactly what it'd do to both men, she sucked on her fingers before casually strolling over to Duo.

"I like to eat," she said, "but not pesto." She shook her hips at Heero.

Duo's cock fit her lips just perfectly, and Heero's fingers splayed against her ass as he lapped at her clit. It was as close as she needed everything to be, and everything else was far away. The world out there, the world she once knew, was gone. Or perhaps, the world was still there, and she was the one who'd left.

If that were so, she'd make sure to take both of her lovers with her.

 

 

 

Heero woke up at Relena's elbow in his stomach—she'd flipped over on her stomach and fallen back into sleep. He raised his head to check the clock. Someone had dropped a shirt over it—odd to see clothes, after not wearing any for over thirty-six hours—and Heero frowned before twisting to take a look out the window. The world was swathed in grays and soft blues, a hint of cherry-orange from the early morning sun.

Duo opened his eyes, on Relena's other side, and raised his eyebrows. Just then Relena sat up, one hand over her mouth. She yelped something incomprehensible, and shoved at Duo, scrambling over him, dashing for the bathroom.

"Rel?" Heero sat up, but Duo caught him by the elbow.

"Morning sickness," Duo whispered. In the bathroom, they could hear Relena retching, and Heero immediately turned to get off the bed. It meant turning his back on Duo, however. The instant he did, Duo growled, coming to his knees and grabbing Heero around the waist.

"Hey!" Heero fell backwards, caught off-guard, only to land awkwardly across Duo's lap.

One leg was off the bed, the other folded outside Duo's bent legs. Duo's arm pinned his chest tightly, and that hot mouth was seeking the bite, mouthing it and licking it with a rough tongue. Heero couldn't help but squirm.

"Give her a minute," Duo cautioned. He waited until water ran in the bathroom, then nodded.

"Rel?" Heero raised his voice, calling for her again. "Rel? You okay?"

"Yeah." Relena's voice was muffled, through the bathroom door. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Won't wash my hair. Be right out."

Heero started to reply, then a callused hand caught his cock, gripping it firmly, and Heero froze, uncertain.

"I should still check on—"

"No, no," Duo replied, chuckling. "She's pregnant."

"Already?" Heero twisted to stare at Duo in shock. "But it's only been—"

"And?" Duo rolled his eyes. "Please, you can't be that ignorant of biology. The instant the egg is fertilized, the body starts pumping hormones. She's been positively electric since yesterday morning."

Heero considered that, and the way Relena had seemed to glow. He couldn't help but smile. "But I didn't think... "

"I suspect I should get that in writing," Duo said. "You, not think?"

"It happens," Heero grumbled, a bit reluctantly. "My sergeant always said I was too impulsive."

"I hope he didn't get that idea the same way I did... " Duo clutched Heero's cock tight again, and for a moment it sounded like he was jealous. Heero blinked, and shook his head.

"No. Only Rel, and you... " He added, belatedly, "and Trowa... but not again, with him. I'll have to let him know." He knew he had to look like an idiot, with a crooked smile on his face, but he couldn't help it. "Once the child is born, and they fix us, we can do this whenever—" He realized Duo had stiffened under him. "What?"

"Nothing," Duo said, and didn't meet his eyes. Heero frowned, and Duo looked away, lips pressed in a tight line. "Fixing you. Neither of you is broken."

"I'm sterile, anyway, though now the doctors will think I'm not," Heero replied. "We'll both have to have it done." He didn't like the idea, either, but the law was the law. "And the population—"

"I'm aware of your country's laws," Duo retorted, but he sounded sad, and frustrated.

"I don't understand." Heero shifted, not enjoying the sensation of confusion. But Duo wouldn't meet his gaze, and so he turned his back, still straddling Duo's lap. In the bathroom, the water shut off, and he heard the towel bar rattle. He sighed, and dug fingernails into Duo's leg. "We're still yours," he added, softly.

Teeth bore into the bite-mark, grinding a little, and the flash of pain ripped through Heero before fading into a dull pleasure. The teeth went away, replaced by a rough tongue.

"That's right, Heero-boy," Duo whispered. "Mine."

Heero dimly remembered the word, moaned in his ear so many times, and he shuddered: it was if it took only that one word, and his mind floated free, letting his body move on its own accord.

A hand worked between their bodies, wriggling down his spine to slip between his legs. Without even meaning to, he spread his legs, and the finger pressed up into him, rough, a little scratchy, but still slick. Heero clawed at everything and nothing until his hands found purchase on the tangled sheets, digging in and holding on as he was lifted and slowly lowered. He was tight, and it ached; he had to breathe deeply, eyes shut against the bright afternoon light.

"Oh, I  _do_  like," came Relena's voice.

Heero's eyes flew open to see his wife standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Water dripped off her skin, and she was standing with her legs spread, one hand toying with her breast, pinching a soft pink nipple. He gasped as Duo thrust into him, deep, and caught the edge of that place inside him that made his entire body tighten, his back arch, and his eyes close against his will.

Sharp teeth bit down on his shoulder, digging in, and something wet ran down Heero's chest. He cried out at the sharp pain, trying to flee, sinking away from it and only shoving Duo's cock deeper. Duo grunted, and thrust again; Heero realized he was still slick from the night before, though Duo's harsh movements sent a dull ache up his spine, an edge on the pleasure.

"Watch," Duo said, and wrapped a hand around Heero's cock again. "Open your eyes, Heero-boy."

Heero reluctantly opened his eyes in time to see Relena close the bathroom door behind her and slip down to rest on the floor. Above her, the reflection showed Heero straddling Duo's lap. Relena leaned against the door, legs bent and spread, one hand playing against her crotch.

"Don't stop," she murmured. Her fingers sped up, and she watched the two men from under her eyelashes. "I like to watch, too."

"The feeling... " Duo grunted, thrusting again, and Heero moaned.

Everything was burning down to that single point, fullness, thickness, shifting inside him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't do more than let himself be lifted and lowered, tensing his muscles and relaxing, cries caught in his throat.

" ...Is mutual," Duo continued. "Do it, Relena-girl, so we can watch." He picked up his pace, and made that rumbling sound again, a kind of dark laughter.

Her fingers moved like lightening across her clit, and she threw her head back, crying out. Her entire body shook, flushed with red and her hand slowly came to rest against her crotch. Heero could only stare; above her, he could see himself, and thin threads of blood making their way down his chest. Duo's face was barely hidden by Heero's shoulder, only the amused deep blue visible as Duo rammed Heero, again and again. And Heero helped, for all he could, crying out as Duo finally shoved him down hard, cock pulsating in Heero's ass, and a sudden warmth ran through Heero's body – yet he hadn't come.

"Now," Duo whispered, and held out a hand to Relena. "You... "

Next thing Heero knew, he was being pulled backwards, still on Duo's cock. Every shift threatened to separate them, yet he could feel the softening member rub within his ass. Relena rose, and with Duo's guidance, settled between Heero's legs, her arms across his thighs. He scrabbled for purchase on the bedding, while Duo gripped his hips, refusing to let him move.

Relena held onto his cock, one hand around his balls, sucking him fiercely, and his cock was buried in her warm mouth. Duo laughed behind him, shifting again, and Heero cried out, unable to create his own pace, but forced to accept Relena's punishing speed. When had she learned how to do that?—just what had Duo—and then Duo's cock nudged him from within again, and his back arched. Slivers of red flickered at the edge of his vision, heat and wet between his legs, his ass filled—

He leaned against Duo, groaning helplessly, chin up, neck exposed. Duo tongued his neck, nibbling gently, and Heero shivered, his hips still caught and held. Duo thrust again, and the force exploded within Heero, fire hurtling across his nerves to explode from his cock, a brilliant orgasm that wiped the daylight to white.

She rode the motion, tongue pressing against the underside of his cock with every swallow, and Heero felt tears leaking from between his eyelids, squeezed tight. Duo's hands ran up and down his chest, tweaking his nipples, and Heero whimpered at the flash of pain streaking through the shuddering pleasure.

He was lifted up, and Duo's cock slid from his ass. Heero sighed, and let Duo lie him back on the bed. A moment later Relena crawled up to join him, rolling onto her side, her forehead pressed against his chest. Heero hugged her closely, smiling at the brush of Duo's stubbled chin across his forehead, sleep tugging at Heero's senses.

He distantly recalled Duo's words, and the odd sadness, and made a note to bring it up over breakfast. But his body felt heavy, tired, as if the past thirty-six hours were finally catching up. Something smelled heavy, sweet, tangy in his nostrils, fading... he sighed, inhaling, trying to figure it out, but it was gone. Relena murmured against his neck, her breathing deep and even, no rattle in her chest or shake in her hands, and he relaxed. Duo was there, and they could sleep, and he'd watch over them. It was safe.

When the front door latch caught, it echoed through the apartment, and Heero woke instantly. He looked down to see Relena's blue eyes staring up at him, and he couldn't think of what to say. Like always, she knew the words when he didn't.

"He's gone," she whispered, and he nodded. She sighed, closing her eyes. "I knew it would happen." She ran a hand down between their bodies, to rub at her stomach, then opened her eyes to stare up at Heero, a knowing expression. "He'll return."

"But... "

"No," she chided, and kissed Heero chastely. "He will. I know it."

She tucked her head under his chin and was soon back asleep, leaving Heero to wonder what that scent had been, and where it had gone. In the end, he knew only one thing.

They were still each other's.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Sounds of trains in the surf / in subways of the sea / And an even greater undersound / of a vast confusion in the universe"_  
— Lawrence Ferlinghetti

 

 

The summer city lay dying in the last heat before autumn, entering that month of dull in-betweens, when the flat yellows and whites of summer would become browns and reds before turning gray under midday clouds. The stale air, replete with pollution and the scent of sewer and incinerator, would be blown across the streets by the autumn winds. Soon, but never soon enough.

Trowa lit another cigarette, and watched the cars huff in traffic between the diner and the DPM. Mustard-gas taxis and brown government vehicles, unchanging scenery. Inside, the same: he knew the waitresses, moving with timeworn monotony of old shoes broken in and split at the soles. Hollow eyes and plastic smiles, uncaring past noting his frayed cuffs and old tie, to find him lacking. No tip from his table would be enough; buy a new hair-tie, a pair of stockings, but forget about the bills on apartments too small and cluttered.

He wanted out, but fleeing the little diner, the stained formica tables, the plastic bench cushion cracked at the seams, and he'd only find another one around the corner, identical. A city of rows upon rows of barefaced buildings stared down at him through the diner window, reminding him of his inevitable uselessness.

"Hey," Heero said, sliding into the booth across from him. The question was there between them, and Trowa held out his hand, offering the smoke. Heero took it, inhaled, handed it back.

"Just in a mood," Trowa said, shrugging, not sure why he bothered to answer the unspoken things. Perhaps it was part of the exhaustion, the ennui, the machinery of every day and stale water. "I got word you've cancelled."

"She's pregnant," Heero said.

For a moment, Trowa thought he was having lunch with a stranger. Heero had always had a tousled look, casual—even dressed in a fine suit for some political dinner, he'd looked barely restrained at the edges. Perhaps it was the hair, thick and gently curling, refusing to stay in place. Maybe it was the eyes darting across spaces, taking everything in without a movement of the head. Fingers open, out, ready to strike: tension running through the tendons, wrist corded, wiry stress in the shoulders.

But now, Heero's lips curled, a fraction, at the edges. He looked nowhere but at Trowa; eyebrows raised, expectant. The edge was gone, replaced with delight.

"Congratulations," Trowa replied, to fill the space. He paused, frowned. "How did you—"

Heero shook his head, curtly, but never lost that tiny smile, and Trowa wanted to laugh out loud, startle the waitresses in their clockwork tromping back and forth across the diner's faded tiles. He wanted to lean back, laughing until the newspaper billboards on the walls rattled, the thick coffee spilled from the mug by the sound of his joy.

Instead, he took another drag, narrowing his eyes at the pleased, even abashed look on Heero's face. "You wear the expression of the well-fucked," he remarked.

"Perhaps." Heero's smile modulated, became smug, and the loose ends of his rebellion unraveled further. He leaned back, arms crossed: the sleeves rolled up, damp sticking white shirt to undershirt to skin.

Beads of sweat on Heero's upper lip; one drop rolled down his temple to slip along a stray hair. The shirt, open two buttons, not just one, the easy stance of the shoulders. Eyes open wide, the blue iris no longer flat gray but something deeper, like the distant desert skies just before sunrise.

"How's Relena doing?" Trowa stubbed out his cigarette, nodding to the waitress when she set a second glass of water down on the table for Heero, but Heero didn't note the intrusion.

"Morning sickness, but the rest of the time... " Heero didn't usually roll his eyes, but the expression was hiding in his tone. Exasperated, but fond. It made Trowa's heart ache. "Two of her regular guards have taken to wearing sneakers. Requested exceptions on the uniform policy, because otherwise they swear they can't keep up with her."

"Next thing you know, she'll want to come to the gym with you," Trowa commented.

Heero looked surprised, then smirked. "She's already making noises about that."

"She's pregnant."

"She's got energy for the first time in eight years." Heero shrugged, then noticed the menu by his elbow. He glanced it over, and pushed it aside, giving his order in curt tones to the waitress, who trundled off. "I woke up yesterday morning to find she'd started rearranging the living room."

At that, Trowa did laugh, and it felt like their small table, dirty plastic, their corner of grimy window looking out on the city—all a cage, but for once... Something in Heero stood between Trowa and the world in that brief moment and let him laugh, because with Heero, he stood outside the cage. Let the flat-faced waitresses stare, let the businessmen with their shabby briefcases wonder at the government drone who dared to throw his head back and laugh out loud.

Heero just watched, one eyebrow quirking, but with that same affectionate expression. And it dawned on Trowa while he continued to chuckle, stamping out his smoke, that Heero was truly in love. When Heero had announced—four years, had it been that long—that Relena had accepted his proposal, he could have been listing enemy munitions locations for all the emotion in his tone. When she was absent, so was his vulnerability. But now, it was there, and Trowa wondered at the idea that a child could bring such radical changes and not even be born. Or perhaps it was something else, something he would always be lacking.

"We've agreed we want you to be the godfather."

Trowa blinked, and sucked in his breath through his teeth, too surprised to manage a reply at first. "But... that's a legal role designated for married couples."

"We don't care." Heero was implacable. "We decided. If you're willing." He didn't look away.

It took no thought, no time. "I would be honored."

That smile was back. "We go back to work on Monday. No reason to sit around the house, and the doctors this morning said Rel's in the best of health. They're not sure how, but... " He shrugged. Either he didn't care, or he knew, and wasn't going to tell.

"I'll look for the formal paperwork in my box." Trowa leaned back, letting the waitress set their plates down. He waited until she'd walked off, again marveling that Heero didn't seem to notice or care. For some reason, the words fell from his mouth, as words had, long ago, when they were two orphans in boot camp. "I want out."

"Out... " Heero's eyes widened, puzzled.

"Completely." Trowa shoved his plate away, his appetite gone, and lit another smoke. He signaled to the waitress, requesting a beer and a shot of tequila despite her started look—and Heero's raised eyebrows.

"Work, Trowa."

"I'll tell Dorothy I'm taking a half-day." Trowa inhaled, and blew the smoke out over his head. It didn't matter any more, did it—then realized. Maybe it did. "I'm sorry. If I'm going to agree to be your—"

"You could work with me," Heero replied. "I know I could trust Relena with you. And you might be able to keep up with her, too."

"Ah. True." Trowa offered the smoke when Heero held up his hand, and they shared it, passing it back and forth like a secret. And perhaps, in some ways, it was.

 

 

 

"You've done some excellent work," Relena said, after finishing the last report. She stacked it neatly and set it to the side, then leaned across the desk, giving her best reassuring smile to the young woman across from her. "I'm glad to see my faith in you was well-founded."

"Thank you," Meiran replied, her smile a little crooked. She exhaled, blowing strands of black hair out of her face, and her smile widened into something less professional, more human. "I really appreciate the chance you gave me."

"I didn´t give you anything you hadn't earned with your vitae," Relena pointed out. "And you've more than proven your worth since then. And please don't think that I'll be taking everything back from you. I've promised my husband I won't work myself completely into the ground." She held her hand up, forefinger and thumb an inch apart. "Just enough to be flat. But not buried."

Meiran laughed, a bright sound, and the last of her veneer faded away in the amusement. "And he agreed to that? My husband would... " She shut her mouth suddenly, looking away as she cleared her throat. "Anyway, the report on the meetings—"

"Is everything alright?" Relena brushed aside the business Meiran was trying to raise, and followed her instincts. "I know we barely know each other, but your life is important. I believe our private lives should be fulfilling, or our public lives will be just as empty."

"Really." Meiran's reply wasn't sarcastic, but... hollow. She shook her head, and stared down at her hands for a long moment. When she spoke, it was a whisper, a breath of hot worry. "May I... may I ask you a personal question?"

"Depends," Relena replied. "Ask, and I'll tell you." She smiled inwardly. I sound like Heero.

"I heard you on the phone... I'm sorry for intruding, but I couldn't help but hear... that you were canceling your contract with the DPM." Meiran blew the wayward strands of hair out of her face a second time. "Did you and your husband... have companions?"

"Yes." Sometimes the best way was to treat it like an ordinary thing. As ordinary as the old computer on the corner of the desk, as utilitarian as the olive-green folders stacked on one side, the crack in the fake wood veneer under her hands. "Many people do."

"How did you... " Meiran's fingers twitched, and she clasped her hands together, tightly enough for the knuckles to turn white. "How did you handle it? Didn't it... "

"Drive me crazy?" Relena shrugged, trying to think back to how she'd felt when it began. "I suppose I came to the realization that I couldn't be everything. And maybe for the time being, I couldn't be my husband's sexual partner, but I could still be his best friend. And he be mine."

"I'm hardly my husband's best friend," Meiran snorted. "He's a jerk." She frowned at Relena's surprise, and shook her head. "Arranged marriage. He's brilliant, uncompromising, hard working... and arrogant as all get out. But still. He's  _my_  husband. I'd just never thought of... sharing."

"We always share." Relena busied herself sorting her messages, as though giving her hands something to do would make the conversation more mundane. "I can't monopolize Heero's time all day long. I can't be his top security force, or his launderer, or his doctor. I wasn't his sergeant. I guess I just put a companion in that category, of doing something I couldn't, and let it go." She paused, hands hovering over the stack of yellowed notes, indecipherable scribbles from some temporary office worker. "But then, I was also madly in love with my husband."

"I would think that'd mean you'd want more time with him, and more of him."

"Oddly, no. I couldn't change the world. I try, but I can't change all of it," Relena admitted. "So I could at least make sure he had everything he needed. And if that included sex... and it couldn't be from me... " She shrugged. "I don't know how to put it, and I guess it's not a logical thing." She glanced at Meiran, managing a smile. "But then, emotions never are, are they."

"Which is why our industry exists," Meiran observed. "If people were logical, there'd be no war."

"Or the wars would be far more brutal."

"Agreed." Meiran sighed heavily, and her smile lifted her face from its melancholy demeanor. "I'm sorry if I got too personal, there. I just... I wanted time for the two of us to get to know each other. Having a companion makes it feel like we're just two housemates."

"That happens." Relena nodded, knowing the days and months of that empty feeling.

"Did you ever... get jealous?" Meiran's head was turned; her profile girlish, but weighed down with sorrow, uncertainty. The late afternoon sun kissed her features, golden and strong. "I mean... "

"I know what you mean." Relena placed her hands flat on the desk, trying to sort through her memories instead. "I did. Sometimes. It's rather hypocritical, of course, given that we both have companions. And to hear that he'd rather be with me was, in the end, just frustrating. Because we'd decided, and that was that."

"So you just got over it?"

"Eventually." She shrugged, rueful. "Or maybe it's more that I realized Trowa wasn't going to take him away from me. Maybe knowing that was what mattered most."

"Trowa... " Meiran frowned. "Mister Barton?"

"That's the one."

"My husband's been assigned to him. Do you know him? Or are you not supposed to meet them... " Meiran sighed. "I really don't know how any of this works. I never thought I'd need to. Maybe I was being naïve. I had this idea marriage was somewhere over  _there_ , and if I just stayed in school... "

Relena chose to skip the topic of school, preferring to avoid her own secret jealousy of Meiran's advanced degrees. She'd wanted to do that, but between her father's death and the organization, and her health, it had been out of the question... Pay attention, she reminded herself. Stay on task.

"I've met Mister Barton," Relena replied. "He and my husband served together during the war. Maybe that's part of the reason it doesn't bother me, because they knew each other already."

Meiran chuckled, wryly. "That would bother me more! At least with a stranger, it's not like there's an emotional connection."

"But to me, that's what was important. I can't see my husband being with someone that didn't matter to him. That would hurt him, in the long run." Relena sighed, remembering the times she'd been eaten apart by illogical jealousy, knowing Trowa was getting to see a part of Heero shut away from her by society's rules. "I guess I just decided if it couldn't be me, it should be someone who cares for him as much as I do." She realized the flaw in that comment, completely useless as far as advice might go. "That really doesn't apply to you, I suppose. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize." Meiran smiled, a bit brighter. "It's just nice to hear how someone else sees things. Helps me put my own ideas in perspective."

"Anytime," Relena said, and glanced down at the messages; the top one finally registered. "Oh, crap. Martins wants to set up a meeting?"

"Yes, on the riot control conference next week," Meiran answered. "I have notes on his requests."

"Excellent. That man can be such a jerk," Relena muttered. "If I never had to deal with him—"

"I'll take care of it." Meiran grimaced. "I've been dealing with him for the past two months. We can tell him it's your delicate condition."

Relena leaned back and propped her feet up on the desk, revealing her brand-new walking shoes. "And the minute he arrives for a meeting after I've done my one-hour lunch walk, the gig will be up."

"Walking!" Meiran made an exasperated sound. "I recall you weren't in the best of health prior to your pregnancy. You should be doing lower-impact activities."

"I've spent enough time lying in bed, thanks."

"No, like taichi." Meiran grinned widely, and the smile was a remarkable shift from the serious young woman into something more mischievous. "I've been studying for years. I'll start teaching you over lunch."

"Oh, I couldn't—"

"I insist," Meiran said, standing. "You let me impose. Allow me to return the favor."

Relena didn't even see reason to try convincing Meiran otherwise; the young woman was clearly as stubborn as Heero. She just smiled and nodded, and agreed to meet in the building's front courtyard at noon.

 

 

 

Heero padded to the bed, leaning over Relena to kiss her on the forehead. "Shower's yours," he told her, and she grumbled sleepily when he ran a hand across her stomach.

Almost two months, and she already had a bit of a belly. The doctors had confirmed she was truly pregnant, and sometimes he caught himself wondering if he was going to end up on the sofa for lack of room in the bed by the end of nine months. But her curves were softer, now, and her face rounding out—the high cheekbones less angular, more like the girl he'd first seen across a crowded protest field, six years before. Her eyes were bluer, lips redder, and she wore a permanent flush as though she'd just finished laughing a heartbeat before.

He couldn't help it. Something about it turned him on, and he wasn't surprised when she rolled over, grabbing his erection and stroking it several times. He groaned, and checked the clock.

"Just a quickie," she coaxed, and threw back the covers, spreading her legs. He growled, climbing on top of her and she didn't even hold his cock—she knew exactly how to angle her hips to catch him, thrusting upwards just as he pushed down.

That first heat of joining hit him, and he shuddered, watching through hooded eyes while she toyed with her breasts, a finger trailing across the tiny white scars over her heart. Like always, he kissed the scars, licking them, and then kissed her. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, matching the rhythm of his cock slamming into her, until he broke away, panting as the pace increased.

Faster, shorter, harder, rubbing up against her while she tensed, keening in his ear. Her orgasm exploded around him, pulsating, and he groaned loudly, strength leaving him as he thrust one last time, deep inside her. His body ran hot, cold, shivery, shaking, and he gentled his movements, hips slowing, rocking, until he sank down with a moan, head pillowed on her chest. Idly he tongued the scar across her breast, then sucked on a nipple.

She giggled above him, and swatted him lightly on the forehead, but he didn't stop. Instead, he shifted to get a hand under him, stroking her clit until she whimpered, coming twice, three, four more times. Only then did he lift up, rolling over so she could get up.

"I'm leaking," she announced, and swiped a hand across her crotch. She wiped her hand on his chest. "Now you'll smell like fuck, all day long."

"Rel!" He pretended shock, but the most he could manage was satisfaction. "Towel?"

A moment later the damp towel landed on his stomach, and he cleaned himself up, too sated to bother with keeping a straight face. It wasn't until he heard the water running that he got up, picking out his clothes for the day. He wandered into the living room to check the day's weather while he buttoned up his shirt and put on his tie. Same as the day before: dry, windy, with high pollution index from the strong winds.

With each layer of clothing, he could feel the world settling into place around him. When he had time to think of it, he could only feel disturbed, perhaps he might have even said disheartened, but that he would only admit in the dark of night while listening to his wife's steady breathing against his chest. Had he truly spent his life bound by rules, hemmed in on all sides? It had never felt stifling before, but comforting. He'd always walked the streets with a prickling sensation, aware of his surroundings. But now he fought the impulse to strike out, take down, break  _something_  until the illusions around him shattered—

The news anchorwoman's fabricated serious mien annoyed him, no less when it changed to suitably mild delight at a successful policy implementation by the government. Heero settled down on the sofa while he pulled on his socks, listening to Relena's movements in the bedroom. A riot in the southeastern district; schools closed in the southwest due to air conditioning malfunctions; a worker's strike negotiated peacefully in the northwestern suburbs. An outbreak of the E-18 virus in the northeastern district, and all registered residents were being required to present themselves for inoculations.

More drugs. He snorted and leaned over, lacing up his shoes. They pinched his toes, and he wondered why he'd bought them, and figured it didn't matter. Everything seemed to pinch, when he felt like he was bursting at the seams... but even that was fading, and it was becoming too easy to put his face back on, the one he'd always worn. The one that told the world it could kiss his ass because he had a job to do, the one that took orders and assessed risks and measured damages without flinching. The one that stood between Relena and danger, took the bullet and kept going and didn't give a damn about what would come the next day so long as she was safe in this one.

His shoes still pinched. He stood, frowning at the worn brown leather, looking up only once Relena entered. She must have a meeting with government officials, he realized, noting the soft blue suit, the skirt a bit shorter than usual. Her jacket wasn't buttoned, and if he looked hard, he could see the gentle curve of her body pushing against the suit's stern lines.

"You should be wearing something... " He scowled, not able to find the words. The anchorwoman's voice droned in the background. Outside, the dry brown world lightened with sunrise. "... Something more feminine."

"Hunh?" Relena paused in the act of putting in her earrings, giving him a surprised look. "You're turning into a romantic," she murmured, and kissed him on the cheek. "I think we have time for breakfast."

He nodded, and moved past her to begin the third part of the morning ritual. Dully he noted there were now four parts: shower, sex, dressing, food. Jackson would be knocking on the door in fifteen minutes, and that would begin the day. Relena packed lunches for each of them while he made toast and tea.

"You left the television on," she chided, wiping her hands on the dishrag before heading into the living room.

But after a moment, the news didn't stop, and Heero brought her a cup of tea and a slice of toast. She stood before the television, stunned.

"What," he said, and held up the items. "Rel, you need to—"

"Heero," she breathed, pointing at the television. He turned, seeing only the anchorwoman's false concern, hair perfectly styled, glistening under the studio lights. A frozen image hung over the woman's left shoulder, illustration of whatever latest disaster—

"It's Dog," Relena said, and knocked the tea and toast aside. "He's been shot. We've got to get downtown!"

"Hunh?" Heero stared down at the spilled tea, soaking into the blue carpet, then back at the television. The news played the clip again, segueing into a concerned citizen discussing the national policies on wild animals. Dimly he registered that Relena had the front door open, and was waiting impatiently. He shoved the toast in his mouth, set down the empty mug, and clicked off the television.

"Taxi," he ordered, and took her by the hand, locking the door-pad behind him without looking. "Let's go."

 

 

 

The taxi let them out in front of the police station, and the bored receptionist pointed them towards animal control, in the basement. Relena shoved the fire doors open and practically flew down the stairs, Heero and Jackson right behind her. For a moment Heero wished for sneakers like Jackson, but focused on his wife's clattering heels echoing down the long corridor.

"Dog! You've got my dog!" Relena dug frantically in her purse, pulling out Dog's registration and shoved it through the little window. Heero caught up with her, stepping automatically into place just behind her. Relena barely noted, her short fingernails tapping on the window's small ledge while the animal control officer pulled up the records. "There! That one! That's my address!" Relena thumped on the glass with her hand, getting the man's attention.

"Yes, ma'am, calm down. Let me check the status." The man looked like he was a few seconds from yawning. "I'm not sure you can pick up the dog. He was in bad shape when the officers found him—"

"I want to see him," Relena insisted. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, and pressed her damp palm against the glass, blinking furiously. "Please! He ran away almost two months ago and no one had—"

Heero put a hand on Relena's elbow, drawing her back, away from the glass. Time to play good-cop, bad-cop, or perhaps distraught cop, sane cop, he thought, almost amused but too upset—and too centered on not showing it—to care.

"We'd like to see the dog,  _now_ ," he told the man, in the tone he reserved for giving orders to his security force. "Then we'll discuss arrangements for any medical attention it needs."

"Sir." The officer didn't salute, but he straightened at the tone, and nodded respectfully. He stood up, grabbing keys off the wall. "I'll be right there." He flipped the sign in the window, and a moment later stepped out of a door down the hallway. "This way, please."

Relena followed, sniffling, then she paused to catch Heero's hand, holding on tightly. He was surprised; she knew he wasn't comfortable not having both hands open and ready, but he suspected she needed the comfort more. He nodded to Jackson, who fell in line behind them.

At the end of the hallway, the officer unlocked the door and held it open, ushering them into a massive basement kennel. A light flickered over head, buzzing, and Heero wasn't surprised to see Relena holding a hand over her nose. The place stank of piss and shit and animal fur. Every variety of animal—dogs, cats, several rabbits, and Heero thought he saw a squirrel, as well—all barking and crying, some whining, and two cats hissed. At the end of the row, the officer stopped by a large chain-linked box. Dog lay on the concrete floor, apparently asleep.

"Dog!" Relena flew forward, fingers curling around the chain, and sank to her knees. "Dog, Dog, it's me... wake up... " She twisted to stare up at the officer, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Why won't he wake up? I want in there—"

"Ma'am, he's been drugged. He attacked three officers, and—"

"Of course he would!" Relena frowned, and turned back to the cage, trying to get her fingers through to reach Dog's tail, which lay a few inches from the cage's perimeter. "He was probably scared, and alone, and hungry and what would  _you_  think if men came after you with nets and sticks and—oh, Dog, wake up!"

"Rel, Rel," Heero said, kneeling down next to her. "He's okay. He's just sleeping. We'll get him—"

"Actually, he was injured," the officer said. He tapped on a small screen wired to the cage door, and shook his head. "Shot across the back left leg. He appears to be lying on that side, but anti-coagulants were applied."

"Was the wound closed?" Heero looked up at the officer, frowning. "Was it even cleaned?"

"Probably not. We had to use twice the usual tranquilizer dose on it. And until we've determined its origins, we aren't going in there to treat—"

"So you'll just let him  _die_? Like, like, like a common  _animal_?" Relena came to her feet, pointing at the kennel. "You don't need to determine its origins. He's our Dog, and that's all you need to know. And we want to take him somewhere to get him treated after—after—after your brutality!" She burst out, then unexpectedly put a hand on her stomach, and the other on her head, letting out a long moan. "Oh... "

Heero's first impulse was to give his wife a bewildered look; even when Relena had ever felt badly ill, she wouldn't have shown it if she could help it. His second thought—hopefully without too much of an obvious delay—was to catch her by the elbows, and wrap an arm around her waist. She nudged him, just barely, with an elbow, and he frowned, but covered by pretending to let her lean on him.

"My wife's pregnant," he told the officer, who looked astonished, then embarrassed. Heero hid his smirk in Relena's hair; she whimpered, a hand on her stomach. "The doctor's said she shouldn't get too upset, and I'm afraid... "

"I understand. My wife was the same way," the officer said.

"So if we could wrap this up," Heero replied, and turned to Jackson. "If you... "

"Of course, sir," Jackson said, taking Relena, and guiding her back to the door. His voice faded, his soliticious words, "you shouldn't be breathing this air, Mrs. Yuy," buried under the frantic yelps and barking and a cat yowl.

Heero turned to the officer, waiting pointedly.

"I suppose. I can't see a reason you can't take him, and at least it takes his care off our hands." He fiddled with the keys in one hand, and sighed heavily. "I'll let you in, and I'll be back with a carry-cart."

He undid the chain, leaving the door open, and Heero stepped into the cage, wary. Dog didn't react, even once Heero checked breathing, pulse, and pulled open Dog's eyes to see if the pupils reacted to light; they did, and Heero breathed a little easier. Then he rolled up his cuffs and slid a hand between Dog's flank and the concrete; his hand came away crimson and wet. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, and made a note to call Trowa. He was supposed to be security at a series of meetings, and Heero didn't want to pull Trowa out of that. He just hoped his wartime basic medic training would be enough to stitch Dog up and bandage him. Heero doubted a hospital would do it, and they couldn't even afford a veternarian's expense, not with a baby on the way. But he had his kit at home. Hopefully everything he would need would be in there, and if not, then he would call Trowa.

"You just sleep," Heero told Dog, running his hand across the matted dirty black fur. "We'll get you home and fix you up."

 

 

 

It was the sort of thing she never really considered, since on an average day Heero didn't go around bending steel to remind her just how strong he was. But seeing him carry Dog into the apartment and set him down on the table—without breaking a sweat—reminded her of how unusual Heero was. Yet in the circumstances she couldn't spare even an instant to go weak in the knees at his strength, let alone tease him for showing off.

She was too busy shoving the hot pads and table linens out of the way for Heero to lay Dog down. She'd bullied the animal control officers, guilted them when necessary, feigning weakness at the first sign the men would balk. It had gotten the three of them a ride in the animal control van with Dog—who'd slept through it all, though he'd started bleeding again when moved. She'd not said a word when Heero stripped down to his undershirt in the back of the van, using his dress shirt and tie to create a makeshift bandage against Dog's leg.

"Hot water, Rel," Heero called. He flicked on the overhead lights, and squinted. "Jackson, the reading lamp—"

"Got it," Jackson replied, yanking the cord from the wall and moving the lamp over by the table. He raised it, and Heero angled the light.

"There. Hold it."

"Should I boil the water?" Rel called out, not sure whether to be sick at the sight of so much blood on Heero's shirt, or proud of her husband's cool nerves. "Or just make it really hot?"

"One of each. First aid kit, in the cabinet—"

"Right here," she said, bringing it to him. "Bandages?"

"Towels will do. We'll need all of them, just in case." Heero popped open the case and sorted through the packages and plastic containers. Putting on a pair of gloves, he ripped open the gauze package with one hand, and squirted out something from a tube onto the gauze. "Scissors... and bring my razor from the bathroom."

Jackson stayed at Heero's side, remarkably calm despite the blood and the fact that Heero was performing battlefield medicine on a dog that weighed probably more than Relena. But then again, Heero had blood on his face, his hands, across his shirt, and the smell of it pervaded the tiny apartment—and he never flinched, never winced. She marveled at his complete calm, low voice requesting something and never once snapping or getting frustrated with progress.

She held the bowl of water while he shaved around the wound, finally forced to turn her head away. The wound had been a cruel gash, but to see it exposed and hairless only emphasized the cruelty of the shot, tearing through the muscle and up across the hip. Dog whimpered once or twice, but calmed when Heero put a hand on Dog's head for a moment. The tail wagged, then fell still.

"Passed out," Heero said, and for a moment there was a ghost of a smile across his face. He dropped the razor in the bowl, and began cleaning the wound one more time. "Dump that water out, and bring me the boiled water."

Relena nodded, keeping her head turned away, and felt like retching. Already did that today, she reminded herself; she'd taken a few minutes in the bathroom to throw up when they'd first brought Dog in. It had seemed like a pragmatic thing, to get it out of the way. She poured the bloody water into the sink, watching the hairs catch on the drain, and picked up the pot of boiled water. She thought twice and snatched pair of tongs from the utensil bowl on the counter; she didn't want Heero sticking his hand in bubbling water to get the boiled instruments. Just because he could bend steel didn't mean he had hands made of asbestos. The thought made her smile despite the grim scene of her husband standing over Dog.

Heero had put on a clean pair of gloves, and was feeling along the edges of the wound. It began bleeding with every finger-prod, and Relena found herself holding the lamp while Jackson staunched the wound as Heero investigated. Finally Heero nodded, picking up the threaded suture needle, and placed it against Dog's skin.

The first push through the interior muscle, and Dog came awake, yelping. Relena nearly dropped the lamp, grabbing for Dog's head.

"Shh, shh," she cried, petting Dog's head, the lamp stuck under her arm. Heero waited, while Jackson held down Dog's hip and rump. Relena sniffled, ignoring the tears blurring her vision and dropped to her knees to be eye-level with Dog. "It's okay, we're fixing you up, Dog, Heero's taking care of you... "

"It's almost like you think he understands," Jackson murmured.

"He does," Relena protested. She petted Dog one more time, and he whined softly. "He knows we're just trying to help him." She sighed. "Don't we have anything... oh! I know!" She set the lamp down on the table, and dashed into the bathroom, scrambling through her medications for the painkiller. Finding the bottle, she ran for the makeshift operating room, trying to guess Dog's weight. "Two? No, three?"

"Start with two," Heero said, and shook his head. "We should've done that first."

Relena shook out two pills, and carefully opened Dog's mouth, pushing the pills down his throat like Jackson instructed. Then she smoothed down Dog's throat until he swallowed, and she cooed over him, kissing him on the face and not caring that he was filthy and matted and stank of blood and trash. It was Dog, and he'd be okay once Heero could sew up the wound.

"Okay," she said, picking up the lamp and shining it on Heero's hands. She kept her other hand on Dog's head, stroking the long ear and smoothing the matted fur, tugging at the tangles with her fingers. "We're ready."

Heero smiled at her, and just as quickly the expression was gone. He no longer saw her, but only Dog, and the work to be done. He bent his head, and began sewing the wound with quick, tiny strokes. Dog whined deep in his chest, and his paws scrabbled for purchase, but Relena shushed him each time. By the time Heero had finished the first row of interior stitches along the muscle, Dog's eyes were unfocused but his tail wagged whenever Heero would speak, directing Jackson to change the gauze.

"Okay, done," Heero announced, leaning his head back. He cracked his neck, shoulders settling into a relaxed line, then began cleaning as though he'd never taken a heartbeat to show his exhaustion and worry so openly.

Relena continued to pet Dog until Jackson and Heero had finished cleaning and set up the clean towels, a winter blanket, and a set of sheets laid across on top. Dog's hip had been packed with antibiotics, covered with gauze and ripped sheets, and tied in place. Relena had no idea how it'd stay on when it was time to take him for a walk, let alone how they'd get him down the hallway. Then she inhaled a deep sigh of relief, wrinkled her nose, and changed her plans.

"First things first," she said. "Put Dog in the bathroom. He needs to be washed."

"Not with those bandages," Heero replied, shaking his head.

"I'll do a sponge bath," Relena retorted. "But he stinks!"

Jackson chuckled. "Mrs. Yuy is right."

Heero grumbled, but he carried Dog into the tiny bathroom and set him on the tiled floor. Relena waited until Heero had escorted Jackson to the door before stripping off her work clothes and changing into Heero's old cut-off sweatpants. She put on one of his workout tank tops, and fetched a large bowl from the kitchen, filling it with warm water in the bathroom sink.   
  
It was messy, and not the cleanest Dog would ever be, but it worked. It took forever to get the soap off Dog, and she finally told Heero to call into work, only to find he'd done that while she was dealing with Dog. She figured the government could stuff it, as far as she was concerned, although Meiran had probably gone ahead to the meeting and dealt with it just fine on her own.

Heero returned from the phone calls to lift Dog up, holding Dog's lax body against him while Relena cleaned the other side, rinsing it down until they were as wet as Dog. The bathroom floor had an inch of standing water, and Relena could feel wet dog hairs stuck to her body, but it didn´t matter. Dog was alive, safe, and home where he belonged. She patted him down with the towel, then Heero carried Dog into the living room.

There they laid Dog down, and both spent several minutes petting Dog and whispering to him with their own secret languages and pet-names. Dog's tail thumped once, and Relena sat back, leaning against Heero.

"He's going to be okay?"

"Yes," Heero said, and hugged her with one arm. "But now I need a shower. Unless you'd rather go first?"

"No, you go." She poked his stomach, and gave him a quick kiss. "Get that blood off you."

"Be back shortly."

She smiled when he kissed her on the cheek, noting that Heero kept one hand on Dog's shoulder. Only once Heero's step had faded into the bedroom did she lean over and whisper to Dog, "welcome home." She paused, smoothing back the damp hairs, and muttered, "and if you ever do that again, I'll... I'll kick your ass."

Dog's ear twitched once. Relena snorted, figuring that was as good of a response as she could expect, and probably not much better than she'd get from her own husband.

"I'm a fool to fall in love with one stubborn idiot," she murmured, lying down next to Dog so she could keep petting him. "So you'd think I'd learn not to fall in love with two."

Or three, she thought, but didn't say that out loud.

 

 

 

Trowa came by just after dusk. Like Heero, he'd worked with animals during the war, but unlike Heero, he'd grown up with them. He rarely spoke of it, except to say that he preferred cats over dogs. Heero had never had either, so he'd never seen reason to press for more information. But failing any other experienced person that he'd also trust in his apartment, Heero had settled on calling Trowa. What he hadn't expected was Trowa's reaction when he entered the living room.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, blinking several times before falling to his knees in front of Dog. His fingers dug through the long fur, and Dog raised his head, whining softly.

Heero frowned, confused and not a little jealous—though he wasn't sure why, and made a note to consider that later—at the way Dog's tail wagged at Trowa's touch. "Do you know Dog?"

"Know... " Trowa sat back, surprised, then smiled, but it looked too secretive. He shook his head. "No, this is a Scottish Wolfhound. They're pretty rare. Most of the ones still around are in use by the military."

Dog growled, just a little, but Trowa never stopped running his hands across Dog's body, finally peeling the bandages away to inspect them. He nodded, giving Heero a pleased look, and set the bandages aside.

"Leave them exposed," he instructed. "They'll seep, and you'll need to clean them, but it's better for healing."

"I'm making tea, and dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes," Relena said, coming to sit on the sofa. She smiled at Trowa: a weary look, but a truly content one. "Thank you for coming to check on Dog. I'm sorry if we interrupted your evening's plans."

"Nothing I didn't want to get out of anyway," Trowa replied, but didn't elaborate. He moved away from Dog, sitting down on the chair, chatting with Relena about dogs and their physiologies while Heero set the table.

Before he left, he accompanied Relena to take Dog out for a short walk. She reported upon their return that Dog had stumbled a few times, limping, but seemed somewhat alert otherwise. Then she tried to shove two more painkillers down Dog's throat while Heero mostly chuckled at Dog's attempts to balk her, until she chided Heero. With Trowa showing him how, Heero prised Dog's jaw open so Relena could get the pills down his throat. Dog's ears were back flat against his skull, and he seemed grumpy until the medicine kicked in.

When Trowa left late that night, he took a moment to say goodbye to Dog, whispering into Dog's ear too low for even Heero to catch the words. The dog's tail thumped once, and he licked Trowa's hand. Heero wondered what Trowa had said, but didn't ask. It seemed like a private discussion, and he wondered when he'd really begun to believe that Dog understood everything around him.

He put it out of his mind.

 

 

 

Three nights later, Relena woke him when she screamed. He sat bolt upright in the dark bedroom, hand on his gun immediately, and realized the scream had become incoherent babbling, but it didn't sound terrified. No. Overjoyed, and it wasn't coming from the bed next to him, but from the living room. Panicked, he came to his feet. Dog. Had something happened to Dog?

Heero kept his gun ready, ghosting to the door, checking the corner out of pure instinct, before entering the living room. He nearly dropped his gun at the sight.

Relena curled on the dog bed, with Duo—naked, no less—halfway across her lap. He didn't raise his head, and looked to be asleep; when Heero finally collected his senses and set the gun down, turning on the nearest lamp, Duo didn't react.

"He's come back," Relena said. She yawned, and rubbed her eyes, wiping away tears. "You'd think he'd at least knock. He could've gotten on the sofa, instead of kicking Dog out. But he must be exhausted, he's not woken up, and... " She stopped, looking around. "Wait... Where's Dog?"

"That  _is_  Dog," Heero breathed, unable to move. "He's... Duo is... a dog soldier."

"A what?" Relena giggled, half-asleep and probably still in shock. She never stopped smoothing Duo's braid, rocking him gently against her bare chest. "Silly, those were outlawed after the war. Improper use of animals—"

"Dog soldiers aren't animals," Heero said, crouching beside Duo to study the ugly gash on Duo's thigh. He lowered his hand, still uncertain, and gently touched Duo's skin. It shivered under his fingertips, and he shook his head. "I had two assignments with a dog soldier. A shepherd, I think it was. Female."

"Wait, wait," Relena protested. "Dog soldiers were stray dogs used to carry munitions and dump bombs—"

"No, they were soldiers who signed up for an experimental project. Their DNA was combined with dog chromosomes. The project was halted because of the side effects. Most of the dogs died, that weren't killed in action."

"Oh." Relena stared at Heero, and he realized it was finally sinking in. "You mean... oh,  _fuck_ , we had sex with a  _dog_?"

Heero laughed, despite himself. "We had sex with a man who has dog genes. I don't think it counts."

"But he looks fully human, now." She ran a hand down Duo's ribs, to caress his hip, above the wound. His leg hairs were mostly stubble in a clear patch around the gash.

"I don't know. The shepherd I partnered with understood orders and could read. I heard rumors the dogs would sometimes be human, but I never saw the shepherd be anything but a dog. I figured it was just rumors that they would change back and forth. I know it was code-named were—"

"Wear?"

"Were." He spelled it out. "It means half. It's been ten years... I was fifteen or sixteen when we—" Relena held up a hand, and he broke off, realizing Duo was coming to.

"Ow," Duo murmured, and nuzzled Relena's breast. One hand twitched, and he grumbled, scratching his stomach, then moving to scratch his thigh. Relena caught his hand.

"No, don't do that," she remonstrated. "You have to leave it alone."

Duo's mumble was clearly disgruntled, and he tugged half-heartedly at her hand before his muscles relaxed. Then he tensed, twisting his head to stare up at her.

"Rel... gg... " He made a face. "Y... g'me... druh... "

"Painkillers," she corrected, pushing his hair out of his face. "They were the only thing keeping you from chewing on the stitches."

"Nnn... " Duo snorted, one leg pushing at the blankets for a moment, then stilled. "He... b... "

"Heero's right here," Relena whispered, and leaned back so Duo could roll onto his back to see Heero staring down at him. Duo's grin was lazy, half-asleep.

"Duo... why didn't you tell us?" Heero wasn't sure whether to be annoyed, or to find it all quite amusing.

Somehow it just felt right that Duo had to have been a soldier, too; there had been too many things he'd done even in his short stay that showed he knew how to move around Heero's instincts. And if there were anyone Heero had known that struck him as tough enough to go through the rumored Dog Soldier project and come out alive, it'd be Duo. He didn't know much, but he knew that much with a gut certainty he'd not felt since the day he'd proposed to Relena, and the first time he'd felt Duo's cock inside him.

The thought of that made Heero flush, a little guiltily, and Duo shrugged, his lips curling into an almost-smirk. Heero sighed, and put his arms under Duo's shoulder and knees, easily lifting him up. Relena followed, her eyebrows raised, her mouth a round 'o' of surprise at the rare display of strength.

"He can sleep in the bed, now," Heero told her. "We'll only have to deal with long brown hairs rather than a shit load of black ones."

She giggled, leading the way to the bedroom, and then going back to click off the light while Heero got Duo situated in the middle of the bed. Relena crawled in on Duo's other side, pulling the light blankets over both of them while Heero slid his gun back into its holster on the bed frame, and curled up facing the two.

They were quiet for several moments, listening to Duo's even breathing.

Relena sighed, and shifted under the covers. "Do you think... our baby's okay? If he's... "

"I doubt he would've said yes if it would have been a danger to you, or if the baby wouldn't be normal," Heero assured her.

He hoped that was true, but it felt right. He leaned over Duo, kissing Relena, then kissed Duo on the temple. The sheets rustled; Relena mimicked his action, kissing Duo on the cheek. Heero lay down, one hand on Duo's chest, the other draped across Duo to clasp Relena's hand.

"But," he added, and yawned, "we're still going to have a talk with him when the painkillers wear off."

"Okay," Relena whispered, and soon she was asleep as well.

For the first time in almost two months, everything—and everyone—was truly where it belonged. He was going to be a father, Relena was healthy and safe, and their other lover was now also safe at their side. Heero didn't know how they'd make it work, being with a Dog Soldier who had to be on the run if he were an escaped government project, but they'd figure that out in the morning... after Heero dressed Duo down for not sticking around in the first place, let alone admitting that he'd been with them that whole time.

Then again, Heero suspected that Relena would probably give Duo a piece of her mind for running away and making her worry all that time. Heero smiled into the dark. Yes. Everything he needed was right where it should be, safe, and home.


	8. Chapter 8

_"corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face"_  
— Allen Ginsburg

 

 

Heero had fallen asleep with a peaceful feeling, and woke up with a knee to his shin. It was followed by a muffled grumbling, and a hissing sound like air from a heat valve; slowly the sound became words, punctuated by thumping and someone growling.

"And if you ever do that—"

Another thump, another bleary growl.

"Again, I will hunt you down and shoot you myself—"

Two more thumps, and the strangest squeak.

"And I won't use painkillers! No!" Relena's voice shot up to its highest registers, and she giggled suddenly. "No—no p-p-pain— stop that, I'm berating you!"

Heero opened his eyes to find Duo twisted around in bed, his face pressed against Relena's chest, tonguing her breast while she tried in vain to push him off. Heero caught her annoyed-amused look, and propped his head up on his fist. Duo wriggled when she swatted his shoulder a third time, but merely wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight. Heero snorted and slapped Duo on the ass.

"Hey!" Duo let go long enough to glare over his shoulder at Heero, but his eyes were unfocused, a little; he was still under the effects of the painkillers. "Watch it, Heero-boy—"

"I'm seconding Rel," Heero informed him, and sat up, leaning over Duo to study the stitches. "You keep that up, you'll pull the stitches out."

Duo made a face, and collapsed onto Relena's lap, his head lolling across her thighs. "They'll be fine."

"Only if you stay still and rest," Heero replied.

Duo just grunted, turning his face to press his nose against Relena's belly. She giggled, and leaned over Duo to kiss Heero good morning.

"Does this mean... " The rest of Duo's words were muffled against Relena's skin. He shifted, and she pulled back, grinning down at him. "Man, I stink," he announced, blinking as if it'd just occurred to him.

"Shower," Relena said. She clambered from the bed, stretching. "I'm going to go throw up, and then you can have the bathroom."

Duo's eyebrows shot up. "Still?"

She shrugged. "Might as well get it out of the way, and then Heero's going to help you in the shower."

"I am?" Heero studied his wife's lean figure, and the growing curve of her belly, the weight of her breasts as she walked. He felt strangely bereft, in the sudden break of their usual pattern. His cock was half-hard, and he wanted her, badly. "But what about—"

"Don't worry, Relena-girl," Duo said, grinning. He moved to lay down beside Heero, and his hand wrapped around Heero's cock, stroking it lazily. Heero gasped at the almost-forgotten, achingly familiar grip of Duo's calluses. Heero arched his back, gasping, and Duo chuckled. "I'll keep him ready for you."

Relena laughed, and turned on her heel. In two steps she'd joined them on the bed. Her smile bright, almost triumphant, she positioned herself above Heero, letting Duo guide her down. Heero gasped as she settled down onto him, his cock buried balls-deep in her hot wetness. Duo's grip shifted to her clit, rubbing lightly, and she began to rock, gently then faster. Heero held onto her hip with one hand; the other hand sought out Duo's cock, stroking firmly.

"Ye... " He ground out, then lost the breath to speak the rest, but it echoed in his head. Yes, it was good to have Duo home.

 

 

 

To Relena's surprise Duo obediently took the antibiotics and stayed in bed for the next two days, letting his stitches heal. As a treat, she and Heero made dinner both nights with finger-food, bringing plates into the bedroom and eating, cross-legged on either side of Duo. The first night he went to sleep soon after eating; the second night he was more awake and feisty, bored from staying inside all day.

Relena set the plates on the bedside table, pretending worry over Duo's stitches before kneeling over Duo's face. Heero lay beside them, fingers running up Duo's cock, and when she fell to the side, sated, Duo laughed, kissing Heero deeply, laughing again when Heero licked Duo's face clean.

They fell silent, sprawled across each other and the bed, until Relena rolled over to crawl forward, grasping Heero's cock in one fist, Duo's in the other. She enjoyed the sensation of having a cock in her mouth; she liked the power, knowing those sounds were her doing, but with both of them present, she liked seeing their faces as much. It was hard to lean over, as well; it seemed like sometimes her own body was determined to get in her way.

Her breasts ached, along with her ankles, so she lay on her side; their crossed legs pressed against her chest and hips as she fisted her lovers' cocks. She couldn't quite hide the grin as both men arched against her hand, hips thrusting, hands clenching in the bed sheets, mouths open, gasping. Duo came first, white streams across her hand and his stomach, followed almost instantly by Heero.

"I like that part," she whispered, and rubbed her hands across her breasts, spreading their cum over her body. Her nipples peaked almost painfully, and she pressed her thighs together, rocking her hips. "I like seeing you come."

Duo chuckled, and reached down, pressing fingers against her clit. With only a few flicks, he had her shaking, moaning as she rubbed against him. Heero's hand joined Duo's, pressing into her; she shuddered, then relaxed with a sigh. She chuckled weakly, face against the bed clothes.

"Enough," she moaned. "Need to breathe."

"Overrated," Duo teased, and ran a single finger down to join Heero's fingers, which moved to run up the crack of her ass, lightly. Duo's hand stilled, buried in her. "Tomorrow... "

"What?" Heero's fingers moved away, and Relena raised her head. He was frowning at Duo, absently sucking on his fingers. "Already?"

"For two weeks," Duo replied, and licked his own fingers clean. "I'm on a bimonthly cycle now."

"Now? What were you before?" Relena twisted to cross her arms behind her head. She stared at the ceiling, and chewed her lower lip, wondering if Duo raising the topic meant it was okay to ask. "When... when you're not you, do you... understand what's going on?"

"I can." Duo leaned back, wincing almost imperceptibly; Heero caught him, and Duo shifted to lean over Relena's leg, held up by Heero. "It's harder. Smells take so much precedent, and I have to work to get past the instinct, it seems."

"So you don't understand English?"

"I do. Well enough, at least, but mostly simpler words. Commands, tones." Duo shrugged, and fisted a hand around his cock, then scratched his balls, seemingly uncaring. "Why? Worried about what you said around Dog?"

Relena could feel her ears getting hot. Heero chuckled, a hand running up and down her thigh.

"In case you're wondering," Duo continued, "I never heard you tease your husband about being an exhibitionist." He beamed, one eyebrow arched.

"You... " Relena gaped, then covered her face. "I can't believe... "

"Nope. Never heard a word." He laughed out loud, then, and twisted to kiss Heero deeply for several seconds. Relena uncovered her eyes to see both grinning at her openly, and she groaned. Duo rolled his eyes. "We've done things that would make a professional blink, and you're worried about one conversation what... two months ago?"

"I know, but... "

"Relena-girl." Duo swiped a hand across Heero's chest, and sucked on a finger. "I'd know both of you anywhere, now."

"You'd better," Heero replied, in what might have been a snarl but for the slight pout hiding in his tone, and the way his lower lip stuck out. "You're ours."

"Mine," Duo growled, and kissed Heero again.

Relena watched, still a little mortified, but satisfied. When the two broke off, Heero panting a little—while Duo just looked smug until Heero elbowed him sharply—she broached her next question. "Does it hurt? To... change?"

He was quiet for a moment, one hand across her knee, thumb rubbing lightly; the other arm keep Heero close to him. Heero lay with his head on Duo's shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded, but a tension in his body bespoke his own waiting, as well.

"It did... but I can shift fast enough now." Duo shrugged. "Normally I don't do it until I'm at a safe location."

"So people don't find you?" Heero's question was a low rumble.

"So I have clothes," Duo replied, chuckling. "I don't fancy walking around naked... anywhere but with you two, that is."

Relena smiled, and rolled over on her side to face the two men. Heero began asking about Duo's travels, and as much as she wanted to listen, she felt weighed down and relaxed. Heero's hand, stroking her hair, and Duo's fingers running up and down her legs, only made her drowsier.

She closed her eyes, not meaning to sleep, and the voices faded away. Some time later she woke to find Duo stretched out beside her, cross-wise on the bed; Heero straddled him backwards, sucking on Duo's cock not more than a short reach away. He glanced to the side and smiled around the flesh in his mouth, and she reached out, grasping his hand. He gripped it tightly, then groaned, releasing Duo as his back arched. She held onto Heero through his orgasm, her eyes closing again, her nose full of the scents of cinnamon, sex, sweat, and the faint hint of sugar.

When she woke in the morning, Dog lay across the bedroom threshold.

 

 

 

Heero took a deep breath and studied the freezer rows. All the cartons were brightly colored, and damn it, he should've written down the flavors. In desperation, he pulled out his phone, hitting speed dial. Trowa answered on the second ring.

"Yes?" He sounded a bit out of breath.

"Did I interrupt something?" Heero glared at the woman near him, who reached in and grabbed a carton with barely a second look. "I just have a quick question."

"Not too busy. Shoot."

"Ice cream." Heero sighed, blowing hair out of his eyes. "Rel's crying again. Meiran said ice cream would work, and she told me four types but I'm not sure which."

"Chocolate," came Trowa's knowing reply. "Soothes the wild wife." The phrase reminded Heero of Duo's taunt, and he filed it away as another question he'd ask Trowa, someday.

"Just plain chocolate, or with things in them?"

"Does Relena like nuts?"

"Anything but macadamia." Heero tilted his head to read the fancy lettering on the side of one container. "Chocolate with walnuts, and chunks of dark chocolate?"

"That should work. But I'd pick up a carton of strawberry, and one of vanilla, too, just in case."

"How much does she need?" He opened the door, dutifully pulling out a carton of each and dropping them into the basket. "There's only one of her."

"No, there's two of her." Trowa chuckled. "You weren't around when my sister was eating her way through everything. Just be glad Relena's not demanded salmon with chili on top and a side of puffed potatoes."

"That's disgusting."

Trowa snorted. "That's pregnancy."

Heero sighed, and hung up.

Hopefully his little surprise wouldn't be ruined by more crying jags—often for no reason that he could see. He had finally determined one pattern of Relena suddenly crying at any commercial featuring small animals, which had led him to changing the channel as soon as commercials broke into the news. But when she'd burst into tears, insisting it was a sign he'd become bored with her, he'd given up. Better to let her cry over the puppy in the laundry basket promoting some new shoe brand, than let her think his channel-switching was because he found her ugly.

And that wasn't the case at all; now that he'd finally had sex—and damn good sex, by his reckoning—he wanted it all the time. It didn't help that she positively glowed, breasts full and heavy, hips swaying with the new weight, and he felt like he was fourteen again and trying to shut away a burgeoning sexuality for a higher cause. Then, it had been to train for war; now, it was to respect her wishes of when, how, and where. She was the one with the baby, after all. He'd never made a point of masturbating, but at least three times a day he'd catch sight of her and was immediately hard. It amazed him, sometimes, that she could do that to him with just a glance. And it frustrated him, too—if Dog were Duo again, at least then he could work off some of it off, but no.

He paid for the ice cream, wondered why the woman behind the register gave him such a sweet smile, and trotted home quickly before the containers melted. It wasn't that he only craved sex, but that he'd always craved it and maybe only now—now that he could have it, knew what a beautiful thing it was when his own orgasm didn't really matter nearly as much as hearing those wonderful sounds from someone else's lips—did he want it so much more. Jerking off in the shower was an empty, useless thing, when it didn't give him Relena's soft cries, or Duo's guttural moans. He wanted the release of sex, but he wanted to give them each that release, even more.

Heero pushed open the apartment building's door, and checked the ice cream. It seemed to have made the four-block walk relatively intact. The surprise had been in the works for a week, and he hoped the ice cream would settle her nerves, so she'd sleep and be refreshed in the morning. It'd taken a lot of paperwork to convince the city to let him rent a timeslot at the park, and more promises of days off to get Trowa's sister's car, and he didn't even want to think about what he owed Meiran for the time she'd been putting in, covering for Relena.

Arriving at his apartment, he produced the ice cream, and was stunned when Relena promptly shoved him against the wall, yanked down his jeans, and nuzzled him erect before pushing her breasts around his cock. Overcome, he fucked her breasts while she grinned up at him, delighted, and he came across her chin and neck. He sank to his knees before her, kissing her deeply, then pulled away with a laugh.

"I wasn't expecting that," he told her, wiping off her skin, bemused.

"You brought ice cream." She yanked off her shirt, rubbed herself clean, and went to make a bowl. "I'll save you a spoonful," she said over her shoulder.

Heero groaned and slumped against the wall, then looked over to see Dog lying across the living room floor. Dog sat up, tail thumping on the carpet, and Heero waved him away, getting up with a bit of a struggle.

"You'll get your turn next week, I'm sure."

 

 

 

The park was empty, and Dog hesitated on the sidewalk before Heero opened the gate. Relena got out of the passenger side, her eyes wide and surprised.

"It's... a dog park?" She glanced at Heero, who unlatched the leash from Dog's collar. "Wait, you can't—"

"I can, too." Heero brandished the reservation sheet at her, before tucking it away. He grabbed the Frisbee and blanket from the back seat, giving them to Relena before picking up the cooler. "Let's go play."

For the next hour, Relena sat on the blanket in the shade, but she could still throw the Frisbee with some amazing strength—and accuracy, Heero amended, after the third time she sent the Frisbee with unerring aim for his stomach. Dog barked, running in low, dark circles around Heero, and with a sudden coiling of powerful muscles, he'd leap and snatch the Frisbee from Heero's hands—or pluck it from the air just before Heero caught it.

"Damn it!" Heero yelled and took off after Dog, as Dog bolted for Relena, running wide circles around her, tail plumes waving furiously. Heero leapt over Relena, landing on Dog, and the two rolled for several feet, with Dog ending up sprawled across Heero. Dog dropped the Frisbee, and barked twice, tongue hanging out.

"Heero!" Relena laughed, picking up one of the apple cores and throwing it at him. It hit him in the side of the head, and Dog grabbed the core, chomping it down in two bites.

"Hey!" Heero fell back on the grass, arms spread. "The two of you... "

Dog got up, carrying the toy to Relena, who held it at the ready. "Come on, lazy husband," she taunted. "I'm ready to throw some more. Go fetch!" Dog lay down next to her, and fell over until his head was in her lap. "Go on!"

Heero groaned, rolling over on his stomach to come up on all fours. He stalked towards her, butting her in the forehead before kissing her hard on the lips. She beat him off with the Frisbee while Dog barked, tail wagging hard enough to smack against Heero's thigh.

After a moment he got up, running off at Relena's direction, turning as she let the toy fly. Dog streaked away from her instantly, and Heero took off as well, both aiming for the Frisbee. When Heero caught it—snatching it away just as Dog's jaws snapped on empty air—the gunshot echoed, and for a second Heero only stared at Dog, bewildered.

But only a second, and he dropped the Frisbee, heading towards Relena at top speed. She lay crumpled on the blanket, and he yelled wordlessly, arms waving. The park's attendant, down by the gate, shouted something, and began running towards Relena as well, but Heero slid to a stop at her side, first.

"Rel! Rel!" Desperate, he rolled her over, panicked, and she stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Blood on her shoulder, and she whimpered. "Rel, Rel," he kept saying, feeling across the wound—it had grazed her upper arm. She clung to him, and he looked up as the attendant halted at the edge of the blanket.

"She okay?" The attendant's badge said Lance. He was young, but had the hard edge of former military, or perhaps a young police officer. "I called ambulance and cops, already—"

"Grazed," Heero replied. He turned to look for Dog, and saw the blur of black come to a sudden halt halfway between the blanket and the park's fence. Dog stood with his nose in the air, tail lowered and ears back. "Dog! Stay!" Heero held her close, and kissed her on the brow. "Please be okay—" Something moved in his vision; Dog, turning in a circle. "Dog! No! Lay down!" He yelled, but Dog didn't even look his way. "Damn it—" He let Relena down, torn between wanting to stay but afraid of what Dog was planning.

"Go," she whispered. "Don't let Dog be—" Her last word, <I>hasty</I>, was almost lost as Heero took off after Dog, yelling for him to stay. The attendant knelt by Relena, and Heero glanced over his shoulder to see the boy staunching Relena's wound. Heero wanted to go back to her, but his gut screamed that letting Dog—Duo—go would bring nothing but trouble.

Dog, though, turned his head, mid-autumn breeze catching the long plume of his tail. Then he froze, barked once, and coiled, leaping into motion. Heero put on a burst of speed, trying to keep up—but Dog stretched out, brought his legs under him, and sailed over the low fence with a foot to spare. Heero caught it only a few seconds behind, hurtling over the chain-link like he'd once done in boot camp. Landing on his left foot, he winced at old wounds, and reached for the gun at the small of his back.

Ahead of him, Dog streaked across the quiet street and towards the apartment complex across from the park. A first-floor apartment window was open; something moved inside. A flash of metal, a curtain waving, and Dog never veered. Heero clumsily unsnapped the holster's guard, bringing out his gun with a yank; he didn't yell, uncertain whether it'd alert anyone, and certain it wouldn't stop Dog. He didn't know why, he just knew—

And then Dog leapt again, throwing himself paws-first through the apartment window. Heero aimed for the front door, taking the apartment's front steps two at a time, not even pausing before slamming his shoulder against the door to force it open. The apartment on the left had to be it—he kicked the door in, nearly falling into the apartment, gun at the ready.

Dog had already done the work. He stood over a man, maybe mid-thirties, dark skin, hair bleached in streaks, sweatshirt, old jeans. A high-powered scope sat on a card table; a tripod stood at the window. The man's neck was a huge gash, blood streaking across the floor. Dog's muzzle dripped blood.

"D... Duo," Heero gasped, blinking. He kept the gun on the man, and shook his head, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Fuck! What would—

"Heero," Duo's voice said.

He lowered his arm to see Duo perched on the shooter's chest, naked, blood in crimson rivulets down his face, across his chest. Heero stared at the gashes along Duo's forearms, from flying through the plate glass; Duo gave him a weak smile.

"No one hurts what's mine."

"But... " Heero shook his head. "You killed him. Now they'll be after you—"

"Of course I killed him." Duo leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and laughed softly. "It's what I was trained to do. And he shot our mate," he added, with a colder tone. "That's not a forgivable offense." Duo groaned, unexpectedly, falling forward, as if off-balance. "Go on, get back to her," he ordered.

"But you—"

"I'll be fine." Duo shook his head. "I can't hold this for much longer. Go on. Make sure she's okay—"

"It's just a graze—"

"Good—" He dropped his head, the loose braid unraveling with the movement. "Go on—"

Sirens blared in the distance. "Cops are almost here," Heero said, looking back into the room—but it wasn't Duo, but Dog who came to his feet, slipping in the blood. With a whisper of large paws and the click of nails on the linoleum, Dog moved past Heero, down the hall, and fled out the open front door, away from the sirens.

Heero stared down at the bloody paws on the carpet, and then followed them back to the dead body. There, slowly being absorbed by the blood seeping out of the shooter's body, were two bloody handprints. Heero sighed, holstered his gun, and headed back across the street to join the EMTs running towards his injured wife.

 

 

 

Relena stared at the watermarked ceiling, and contemplated the age-old question of one hand clapping. Certainly, she could only twiddle one thumb, and she wondered if that were close enough to enlightenment. Pain shot down her arm, a swift piercing line reminding her, and she caught her breath before slowly letting it out.

Between pregnancy, the gunshot wound, and a dead body of unknown origin, she'd been in the hospital for three days. She'd counted the cracks in the opposite wall five times, and felt like she knew every olive-and-chartreuse vinyl tile by heart; the bed creaked with each move, metal creaking on metal. In the hallway, voices echoed into a blur of sound, rushing like a tub being filled. She'd managed to block it out, watching the clock's endless click-click-click of the second hand, waiting for Meiran's daily visit, the only decent break between the investigating officer's soliticious questions and her husband's protectiveness.

Once she'd thought his protectiveness sweet, even touching. After four days in the hospital with him lurking over her every second, it was beginning to get annoying—especially since she could sense a roiling anger under his skin, both at Dog's actions, and at Duo's absence.

"Ms. Yuy?" Officer Winston stepped into the room, clearing his throat. "I've news of the shooter. We've identified his connection for his weapons, and it appears he was acting alone."

She nodded, too tired to bother with much more. If she opened her mouth, she'd probably just scream at him.

"And there's still no sign of your dog." He smiled; despite his curt tones and angular face, he seemed a kind man. "While this does get you off the hook of having him destroyed for being a vicious animal—" Relena amended that to a kind man with no sense of tact— "Unfortunately, the city's now aware you have a dog loose, and I'm afraid you're being fined for that."

"Of course," she muttered. "More fines."

"What?" Heero stepped into the room, a cup of coffee in his hand. She eyed it hopefully, but he made no move to let her have any of the precious caffeine. Instead, he grilled Officer Winston in low tones. Relena contemplated grabbing her hairbrush from the side table and throwing it at him.

"A regular party in here!" A huge handful of flowers appeared behind Heero, an arm attached—pale hand, forearm, black sleeves pushed back.

"Duo!" Relena knew that voice anywhere, and sat up to accept Duo's kiss on the cheek and the bundle of flowers. She sneezed, and he laughed. "They need water, they're beautiful—" She sneezed again, but clutched the flowers when he tried to take them away. Easier to focus on that, than Heero's icy glare and the officer's quiet departure. Duo put the flowers in her water jar, and she smiled. "I love them. Thank you."

"My pleasure." Duo sat down on the edge of the bed, giving her a weary smile. "Are you okay? Why are you still here—"

"Because the cops want her under surveillance, along with me," Heero snapped, nodding to the other bed in the room. "And the doctors want her here considering the risk, and her history. Both physically, and the other... incidents."

"I'm right here." Relena sighed. "Don't talk about me like I'm not."

"We're also under investigation because we have—had—a dog that viciously attacked a man without proof of wrongdoing."

"What?" Duo snorted. "Like a high-powered scope isn't proof, Heero-boy."

"They're not going to expect a dog to know that." Heero bristled. "It's not safe for you to be here."

"Do I look like a dog?" Duo spread his arms, revealing his slender chest, the dark shirt and high collar. His jeans were worn, but tight on his body; he didn't look too much the worse for wear, except for slight circles under his eyes. He dropped one hand, resting it on Relena's; his gaze never left Heero. "As long as Relena-girl is okay, it'll be fine."

"I'm right here!" Relena huffed.

"It's not," Heero replied. "Your rash actions meant we've been without you—"

Duo's eyes narrowed. "What's going on? I thought you'd done a bang-up job of protecting her on your own, before I got here."

"I—" Heero scowled, mouth shutting. "If we're partners in this—"

"Shit happens." Duo waved Heero away, dismissively, then cut the air with his hand in a sharp gesture. "But no one takes aim at what's mine and walks away."

"She was—" Heero appeared to bite back his words, changing mid-stream. "Now the police can't question the shooter, and they've been stumbling in the dark to find out if he was alone—"

"What does it matter? He's dead, now."

"He wouldn't be if you'd listened to my command to stop!"

"Ah." Duo had grown quite still. "Is that it?"

"Yes." Heero crossed his arms. "When it's her protection—"

"Hey!" Relena frowned when neither man turned to look at her.

"Then it's my say," Heero continued, without pause. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you."

"Oh, yeah?" Duo released Relena's hand, coming to his feet to stand nose-to-nose with Heero. "I went to war at fifteen, trained since I was twelve—"

Heero snorted. "I went at fifteen, but I'd trained since I was eight—"

"Not my fault," Duo snarled, "that you're a slow learner."

Relena grabbed her hairbrush and threw it against the opposite wall. "HEY!" Her aim wasn't as good with her left arm, but she still hit the clock. The punctured glass cracked loudly, and both men turned to give her equally surprised looks. "I'm right HERE," she said, her voice going up as her fury rose. "And I'm not some helpless idiot, and if the two of you want to have a pissing contest then I suggest you go do it somewhere else—"

"Rel," Heero started to say.

Duo got out, "Relena-g—"

"Shut up!" Relena glared at both of them, dropping her voice to a whiplash-whisper. "Another word from either of you and you'll BOTH be sleeping on the floor."

Heero blanched; Duo's eyes went wide.

"This is how it's going to work," she informed them, keeping her voice low and controlled so it wouldn't carry out the open door. "You are going to go somewhere and get this out of your system. After that, from now on—" She thought rapidly, turning the dynamics over in her head. "When you're... shorter," she finally said, pointing at Duo, "you're going to listen to Heero. What he says, goes. The rest of the time, then Heero listens to you. That's the compromise."

"But—" Heero started to say.

"And you both listen to me, ALL of the time!" Relena pushed down the blanket and pulled up the loose hospital top, to point to her rounded belly. "See this? This says I get the final say, because I'm making decisions for me and a baby. And as long as you act like idiot children, I'm making decisions for all of us."

Duo blinked, while Heero had the grace to look abashed.

"And THIS—" Relena pointed to her crotch. "Gives me the right to say if you don't behave and do as I've decided, you're BOTH cut off."

Heero's surprise gained the faintest shade of a smirk.

"Don't even think it!" Relena held up her left hand in a fist. No way did sleeping on the floor mean messing around. Duo's expression had become a touch smug, but it disappeared when she glowered at him. "If you're in trouble, you don't get to have fun. Understood?"

"Uh... " Duo shifted nervously. "Are we in trouble right now?"

"Not yet." She huffed, pulling down her shirt, and straightening the blanket, glancing at the two men out of the corner of her eye. "You two go settle your differences, come to the realization that I'm making the best decision on how this will work, and then come back when you're better."  
  
"Oh." Heero nodded, while Duo fidgeted for a moment. They didn´t quite look each other in the eye. Heero sighed and checked his watch. "The gym will be open for another two hours, and it's about six blocks from here."

"Wrestling or boxing?"

"Up to you."

"Both." Duo turned, his braid flying out behind him, and it smacked Heero across the arm just as Duo leaned forward to give Relena a hard, fast kiss. With a wider smirk, Duo turned again, waving over his shoulder as he left the room.

"Bastard," Heero muttered, then blinked when Relena narrowed her eyes at him. "Rel—"

"Go on," she ordered.

"Trowa's right outside, if you need anything."

"Okay. Stop stalling."

"Love you." He kissed her, just as strongly, and left; for all the hard lines around his eyes, his step was lighter than it'd been in four days. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he'd grown to rely on Duo in some odd way, as well.

Relena laid back and thought of that, and how Heero and Trowa had been friends, but Heero always held something back. What was the difference? Why with one, but not the other? Or perhaps it was because she'd let Duo in, become intimate with him, where the law forbade her from doing such with Trowa.

And speak of the devil...

"Mrs. Yuy?" Trowa stuck his head in the door.

Dressed for guard duty in a nice suit, he obviously was still insisting on being formal despite her assurances she'd rather he call her by first name. She gave him a weak smile, certain it wasn't an appropriate time to point out that he'd seen her husband naked plenty of times, as had she, and wouldn't that put them on a first-name basis, if nothing else?

"The doctor is here to see you," Trowa said, winking before slipping out again.

"Mrs. Yuy," Doctor Po said, sailing in with a young Chinese man behind her. "I'm afraid I have some difficult news. Is your husband available?"

"He's gone... with a friend to the gym. I expect him back for dinner," Relena said.

"Ah. This is Doctor Chang, one of the interns," Doctor Po explained, gesturing to the silent young man at her side.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Yuy." His dark gaze was intent, taking in the bandages and sling on Relena's arm, the visible curve to her stomach, and the pink top Heero had brought her from home.

"Hello," Relena replied, and wished she'd been able to wash her hair. "Could you give me a quick overview of the issue, so I have some idea? Is there something wrong with any of the test results?"

"No, not entirely." Doctor Po took a seat on the chair where Heero had been spending so much of his time, between Relena's bed and the door.

Doctor Chang took the other seat, facing the door, on Relena's right side, and began probing the bandages, as if checking them over.

"I'd rather we discuss this with your husband present," Doctor Po began.

"Really, I don't need my husband here for every little thing." Relena glanced at Dr. Chang, who simply studied her from under smoky eyelashes, before tightening the straps on the sling. Damn it, and it'd taken her a half-hour to get those looser; it was awkward with only her left hand.

"Then I'll say this as gently as I can," Dr. Po replied. "One of the tests we gave you was an early sonogram, to confirm your child was uninjured in the... incident. However... "

"Is the baby okay?" Relena gave Dr. Po a sharp glance.

"Yes. In a matter of speaking." Po smiled, a bit tiredly. "All four of them are just fine."

Relena blinked, opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, then shook her head with a soft laugh. "Wait, wait, I thought you just said... four."

"I did."

"But... " She shook her head again. "That's ridiculous. Four... "

"You've just entered your third month, as I understand it." Dr. Po checked her chart, and nodded. "This is too soon to determine a baby's gender, but it's not too soon to identify that you have four sets of arms and legs floating in your amniotic fluid. And... " She looked pointedly at Relena's stomach. "You are showing a great deal more than one would expect, for only one child."

"Four... " Relena took a deep breath and caught it, choking unexpectedly. She was startled when Dr. Chang's hand pressed firmly against her lower back, supporting her as he gently pushed her back down onto the pillows. She looked over; his expression didn't change, yet she didn't feel disapproval from him, only a patient compassion, despite his bland expression. "But... "

"The benefit of realizing this now," Dr. Po said, and she coughed, delicately, looking away, "is that we can make arrangements now, rather than in a hurry."

"In a hurry?"

"Yes. If you... chose... then this pregnancy could be terminated. Your name would be returned to the list, and you could try again if your name comes up in the lottery again."

"No." Relena said it as flatly as she could manage.

"I didn't think so." Dr. Po smiled, sadness in her eyes. "The other option is to wait until you've reached the six month stage. Then we can identify gender, and the fetuses would be viable if removed via C-section."

"I don't understand. Why would you do that?"

"You'd choose which child you wish to keep, and the rest would be... " Dr. Po let the sentence trail off.

Relena puzzled over the fact that her brain seemed to have spontaneously halted. Out in the hallway, she imagined she could hear nurses going on about their business, watched by Trowa; a quick glance revealed the tiles on the floor continued to be a placid olive and chartreuse alternating pattern. There were still cracks on the wall opposite, and water stains over her bed, but for Dr. Chang's downcast eyes, a line between his brows, and Dr. Po's gentle smile.

She tried to speak. "I thought you just said... You mean the other three... "

"Yes."

The cotton sheets rustled, and Relena wondered why it sounded so far away. A warm hand pressed against the nape of her neck, guiding her back, strong arms but it wasn't her Heero, wasn't her Duo. Why did it seem like the ceiling was rushing away from her so quickly, and why did her chest ache so badly, when the shot had been to her shoulder? Someone was screaming, and she wondered distantly who could be so hysterical. How rude, to shout so stridently where other people could hear.

Green eyes filled her vision, warm arms embracing her, but the suit didn't smell like Heero's sweat or Duo's sugar, and was there an earthquake and why was the bed shaking? Someone kept screaming, but muffled. Relena wondered distantly at it, until something poked her in the arm, and it all faded into nothingness.


	9. Chapter 9

_"love is the heritage, and cousin to death. That the only love can only be the first love, the only death the last, the only life within, and the only word... choked forever"_

— Jack Kerouac

 

 

Duo grunted, holding on tighter as Heero bucked against him; for a moment, Duo suspected his grin had to be quite manic against the back of Heero's neck, feeling the muscles tensing under his grip. But the sweet, hot pressure around his dick had the small room spinning in his vision, twirling into infinity as he came, slick and furious. Biting down on Heero's exposed shoulder, he reached around to find Heero already pumping, one hand splayed against the wall. Duo added his hand and Heero cried out softly, the sound fading into a jagged panting.

"Hey... " Duo tongued the scar on Heero's shoulder; he had to be pressing Heero flat against the wall but if he let go, he knew his legs would give way. "Mine," he growled.

"Yours," Heero echoed, faint and sated. His eyes were half-closed, mouth open, lips reddened and bruised. He looked delicious, but groaned when Duo thrust, experimentally. Heero elbowed backwards, but without much conviction. "You're heavy."

"Mm." Duo pulled back, grabbing a workout towel to wipe himself off, then Heero. Tucking his cock away, he dropped the towel and stretched, arms reaching over his head, before letting his hands fall to Heero's waist, thumb rubbing the scarred skin over one hip. "We're square, now."

"Square." Heero smiled over his shoulder, then rolled along the wall to face Duo. He opened his mouth, pausing with a frown. "Is that my phone ringing?"

Duo grimaced. "Maybe." He'd been trying to ignore any disruptions.

"Damn it—" Heero glared, pushing past Duo to dig in his jacket. He snapped it open, studying the number before hitting a button and raising the phone to his ear. "Yuy—what? Who is thi—" He froze, eyes going wide. "We'll meet you there." He shut the phone. "Relena's in hysterics, and Trowa's taking her home. An intern is driving them."

"What happened?" Duo grabbed his shirt, pulling it on with abrupt, nervous moves. All the relaxation from boxing, then wrestling, and then fucking Heero's brains out—wiped, completely, with one cryptic message.

"Didn't say. Only that there had been a situation, and Trowa went, in the words of Dr. Chang, apeshit, and told the cops in no uncertain terms he's taking Relena home." Heero looked almost pleased, smirking despite the line between his brows. He finished buttoning up his shirt, kicked the abandoned towel to the side, and straightened his shoulders. "Let's go."

Duo followed, some rear part of his brain amused that Heero automatically took control of the situation—but the majority of his awareness was running through what he knew. Relena had been in the hospital, and they'd run tests. He'd seen as much from quick glimpses at her chart in the hallway, while chatting with Trowa. Undoubtedly they'd run tests on her to assure the pregnancy had not been harmed by the blood loss or shock of being shot. And if Relena were in hysterics, the news had to be bad.

But her pregnancy was healthy, as was she; he had caught only a hint of pain while visiting, but mostly boredom and then extreme irritation. Under it all, though, she smelled like apples, like fresh rain, the light musk of a woman carrying a strong child.

Or several...

Duo winced, glanced at Heero's stern face as they left the gym, and decided against saying anything. He'd let it ride; he had a fairly good idea of the only alternatives Relena would've been given. For a moment the world ran with a wash of crimson, and he had to grit his teeth, wondering if Heero—

"What is it?" Heero stared at him, suspicious.

"Hunh?" Duo opened his eyes wide. "Cab—"

Heero raised his arm, flagging the cab down without even looking. "Something... " He sniffed, then frowned. "Never mind."

Duo stared after him, then climbed into the cab with a shrug. He'd never expected either of his lovers to develop an acute sense of smell. Or perhaps it was simply that they'd developed an acute perceptivity when it came to him. He wasn't sure which he'd prefer.

 

 

 

Duo leaned against the wall and regarded the Yuy's living room, which seemed to have spontaneously become Grand Central Station. He and Heero had arrived just as Trowa had been helping Relena from a small blue coupe; the driver parked and followed them into the building, introducing himself as Dr. Chang.

Not more than ten minutes later, a young woman arrived. Heero introduced her as Meiran Long, and she greeted Duo absently before speaking in hushed, angry whispers to Dr. Chang, in a language Duo hadn't heard enough to catch more than a few of the more lurid curse words. Definitely married, Duo decided, watching Meiran move to Relena, on the sofa.

Heero made coffee, apparently ignoring Relena's wistful gaze at the mugs. And then, of all things, the doorbell rang again, and Trowa let Hilde into the apartment.

"We've never had this many people before," Relena said, but her laugh was brittle, and she sank back into the corner of the loveseat. Her tense movements made Duo want to throw everyone out, and he restrained himself only by sheer willpower.

"Duo," Hilde whispered. "Trowa told me the news... and he thinks you should tell them about... the world outside."

Four children, which even with the best medical technology could be a hard birth. But to C-section all four, and terminate three... Duo shuddered, and for a moment wished he'd known sooner. He would've pulverized the punching bag at the gym, rather than blow the time dancing around Heero, dodging blows and... Or maybe he'd just have decked the doctor with the gall to suggest such a thing. And then slaughtered any others—especially the politicians who came up with this damned—

"Duo!" Hilde poked him in the chest. "They'll listen to you."

"Listen to what?" Dr. Chang—no, Wufei—glared at them, from where he stood by the loveseat, at his wife's shoulder. "This is too many people. Mrs. Yuy needs quiet, and rest after—"

"What is it?" Relena's weary voice cut through the babble of soft murmurs, her eyes fixed on Duo. "Tell me."

Duo regarded Wufei and Meiran, uneasy. He didn't know them, and what he might say, if they so chose, could land Heero and Relena in an even worse situation than the one they already faced. It was one thing to whisper dissent, another to bald-facedly lay out such knowledge as he had. No thanks to Trowa and Hilde for leaving it on him.

Then again, Hilde had always let him be pack-leader, and that meant Trowa was technically below in the odd ranking that had become habitual after so many years on all fours. He snorted, amused at the visual, suddenly. He'd spent a decade going on all fours, but he'd never lived his life on his knees. Now he had a pack of his own, with his adopted-sister an extension. It was a heady, if scary, responsibility.

Heero frowned, and moved to sit on the arm of the sofa by Relena; it was an odd tableau of couples facing Duo, from where he stood against the wall. Trowa and Hilde by the window, Relena and Heero at one end of the sofa, and the two unknown variables at the other end.

"I trust her implicitly," Relena said, putting her hand over Meiran's. Meiran, to her credit, looked startled, then flattered.

"Dr. Chang," Duo began. "If... if you had the say of things, what would be your position on a woman about to bear four children?"

"The law is very clear—" Wufei began, stiffly, then scowled when Meiran twisted in her seat to hiss at him. He set his jaw, staring down at her, then something in him relented. He shook his head. "At the very least, if economically a family can only raise one child at a time, I would want the other three to be raised by other couples, with the children knowing each other as siblings, fostered by unofficial aunts and uncles." He looked away, a frown creasing his face. "This is how it's done, was done, in my family's traditions."

Duo nodded. That'd have to be good enough; at least it meant Wufei wouldn't go bleating back to the hospital, or anyone else.

"There's no reason for you to give up three of your children," Duo began, keeping his gaze on Relena. She frowned, started to speak, and Duo held up a hand. "In fact, raising all four to be healthy adults is something the world needs, very badly."

"We're in a resource crisis," Meiran interjected. "We have limited—"

"No, actually, we don't." Duo shrugged, and pulled his braid around to smooth it down, before realizing the old habit and dropping his hands, shoving them into his pockets. "First let me give you some old history. Thirty years ago, the plague hit."

Every nodded; they had no need to hear more on that score. The plague had ripped through the world. A third of the population dead, though mostly in lesser-developed nations where sanitation was poor: those that survived were rendered asexual, naturally sterile. It took another five years to discover that the sterility was sometimes passed on, and sometimes not; the plague continued to flare up despite inoculations and a semi-effective cure. With each ensuing pass, more of the world's population was left unable to bear children.

"This country was one of the few industrialized nations that could develop and disseminate a vaccine, and if not a cure, damn near close," Duo continued. "And I know you've all been raised to believe the earth's population was past its bursting point at the time of the plague, but... it wasn't, really. It was simply that we were inefficient with our resources, which could feasibly support a higher population. So while the population was high, the resources were available."

"This is simple economics, but in the years since, things have changed," Wufei retorted.

"Yes, they have, more than you know, and more than your government's ever told you." Duo smiled, coldly. He didn't look at Heero or Relena, who stared at him with a combination of hope and confusion. "This country has a population that's consistently risen, but it's not because of birth rates. It's because of immigration."

"We have an industrialized society that offers many opportunities," Meiran said. She glanced at her husband, then at Duo, her brow furrowed.

"Mostly you have a society with damn good medicine, but once the immigrants get in, they find it's impossible to leave." Duo scratched the back of his head.

"What does this have to do with ou—my ba... babies?" Relena asked.

Duo moved to lean against the window, letting the late autumn heat sink into his shoulders through the glass. "The population goes up, with working-class citizens. They can produce goods and revenue for the government. This revenue, in turn, is used on government expenditures, such as schools, infrastructure, technology... "

"Health care," Meiran prompted.

"No." Duo smiled, bitterly, at her responding frown. "See, health care is expensive, and doubly so for young children and the elderly. Did you ever notice, during the war, when the government raised the health insurance rates for the elderly to such levels that it was unaffordable for all but the most wealthy?"

Heero shrugged. "It was war, and there were—"

"They never lowered the rates again," Trowa interrupted. "The elderly, who cannot produce, have been effectively cut off from medical care. The death rate among those above sixty is triple what it was prior to the plague, and all because we lack preventive health care."

Wufei looked ill. "I've never seen a patient over fifty," he muttered.

"We've constantly been at war," Duo continued. "Who gets sent to war? The neutrals. The orphans. Children of lower-class families, with little chance for an education, who otherwise would work the low-level jobs, the blue collar, or might even end up on the dole."

"Why?" Relena's mouth barely moved when she spoke, her blue eyes glittering in the late afternoon sun.

"Each person produces so much money in tax revenue," Duo replied, keeping his voice even and objective. "The fewer people that you actually spend the money on, however, and the more there is for the rest. It does end, if you do the math, though. The population is slowly being reduced, with each successive generation smaller than the one before, especially with the birth rates one-half the immigration rates. By the time your children—" He nodded to Relena, then Meiran— "are our age, there will be one person working and producing tax revenue for every four people at or above the age of retirement."

"Unless there's no one above that age," Trowa observed. His expression remained bland, but Hilde leaned into him, her face pale.

"It'd take three generations to undo one generation's damage. In the meantime, those at the top of the heap can live quite well on the tax revenue from so many who will not, in turn, live to demand a return on their efforts." Duo sighed. "Meanwhile, outside this country, the rest of the world is struggling to create enough hands to do the work needed to create the resources that this country turns into finished products."

"What do you mean?" Relena sat up straighter. "I've talked to officials from other countries, and they say—"

"That they're doing fine, yes, yes, because if they don't, they'll lose their trade agreements with your country." Duo waved a hand. "They need the trade, this country's factories and intellectuals, who turn raw goods into finished products, which the other countries then buy back. I'm aware of that. I know a lot of them, because they're the ones who get me in here to do my job while they're busy drawing your government's attention to their jobs."

"Your job?" Meiran sounded suspicious.

"He works on antiquated machines," Relena said.

"No." Duo grinned, a little embarrassed. "That's my hobby. My job is smuggling medicine."

"Did you know this?" Heero turned to Trowa, who nodded. Heero scowled, tensing. "Why didn't you—"

"I told him not to," Duo cut in. "If you only had one child, this country is probably the best place to make sure that child can be raised healthy and whole. Unlike all but a few other places, it's one of the few with the means and money to provide a good life for those... lucky enough to be in the right place to take advantage of it."

"I'm not afraid of hard work," Relena said, and looked down at her belly as her arms wrapped around her stomach. "I don't know about carrying four babies at once—" She laughed, somewhere between surprised and despondent. "But if there's a place in this world that would welcome them, that's where I want to be."

"Rel," Heero said, leaning over her. "But our life—"

"Not much of a life," Meiran told him. "They're going to cut her open and take out three of your children and—"

"Enough," Trowa said, tossing his head so his hair fell out of his eyes. He fixed Meiran with a stern look, then turned to Duo. "You realize it's almost September."

"Two months," Duo replied.

"On foot, with a pregnant woman."

Heero glared at them both, one hand falling to Relena's shoulder.

"And," Duo retorted to Trowa's stare, "she'd have two trained soldiers at her side."

"Three," Hilde added. She turned to look up at Trowa, her blue eyes sad. "Four, if... "

Wufei stepped forward. "What exactly are you planning?"

"If Relena-girl wants all her children, then it's not going to happen here." Duo took a deep breath. "That means we have to leave."

"You said no one can get out." Meiran chewed on her lower lip, and glanced up at her husband, then away.

"Normally, yeah. But there are ways. They're risky—"

"More so, with winter coming on," Trowa observed.

"We only have three months before... " Relena came to her feet. Heero gave her a startled look, and she took a deep breath. "I'm in."

"Relena-girl... " Duo started to say.

"Same." Heero stared at Duo, but the clear gaze wasn't challenging, so much as hopeful, and a little lost.

Duo flashed back to Heero's fury during their boxing match, then when wrestling; each time he'd let Heero win the first then trounced him soundly in the next two, having figured out Heero's patterns and the keys to beating him. But Heero's spirit refused to budge, until Duo had pinned him, whispering the reminder: <I>mine</I>. And Heero yielded, pliant, welcoming. Where Relena went, Heero would go, but where Duo went, Heero would also go. It was bigger than just protecting his pups, or his mates.

He could no longer walk away from the couple, because they weren't going to let him. Duo understood with sudden clarity: this was another cost of taking the lead. If he failed any one of them, he'd fail all of them. But he hadn't failed yet, and he didn't plan on it.

"Anyone else?" Duo glanced around the room.

"We're going." Meiran stood up.

"Wife!" Wufei glanced around the room, then turned on his petite wife, who stared up at him; a muscle flickered in her jaw but she didn't look away. "Our whole life is here," he told her, in a tightly controlled whisper. "I'm not about to toss it all away on some whim."

"It's not a whim." She suddenly deflated, and Wufei wasn't the only person startled by the unexpected reaction. "I want... I want to have children. I want you to be the father of my children. I think you'd be a good father. And while I understand this society had its reasons, however misguided, and I respect Mr. Barton," she glanced over at Trowa, then away, a light blush staining her cheeks, "I would much rather that I be the only one to see you... naked. And not in five years, either."

"I... " Wufei's brain appeared to catch up with her words, and he stared at her, open-mouthed. He shook himself, scowling. "Wife, the law says—"

"I'm sick of the damn law. I've put up with the family's law all my life, and I've dutifully done my papers and gotten my degree and observed all the protocols at the meetings that go nowhere... " She sighed, giving Relena an apologetic glance. "Well, they don't. I've busted my ass all these years and I know the society has problems but I just never figured they'd have much to do with me. I didn't even think I'd have to get married! But... I do want to have kids. At least one. More, maybe. And while you weren't my first choice—" She sniffed, tossing her head at Wufei— "You'll make a decent father."

"Hunh." Wufei crossed his arms, unimpressed.

"Besides, they can't go without a doctor along to help, if there were any complications with the pregnancy," she pointed out. "And I speak seven languages, so it's not like I wouldn't be useful, at some point."

"They can get a different doctor. And take some translation dictionaries."

"Husband!"

"Wife."

Meiran shook her head, and held up her left hand. Carefully, never dropping her gaze, she removed her wedding ring and placed it in Wufei's breast pocket. "There," she said, patting his chest. "If you want to join us, you can. But I'm going. I want a life where what I do makes a difference."

"You could make a difference here," Wufei said, stricken.

"No. No, I think it's time I realize that's not true." Meiran stepped back, moving to flank Relena.

"I... I have to think about this," Wufei said, turning to Duo. He bowed stiffly. "I promise I won't speak of this to anyone. Excuse me." He left, head still down, and only once the door closed behind him did tears drip down Meiran's face.

Duo did the best he could, which was to ignore the entire thing, including Meiran's obvious distress. Even Relena did no more than reach out and grasp Meiran's hand, while Hilde looked away, and Trowa closed his eyes, clearly hurt.

"Such a trip will cost money," Heero finally said, into the silence. "And if we spend a lot of money on an out-of-season hiking trip, I'd think someone might notice. If we're not really allowed to leave, as you say."

"True." Shit, Duo swore to himself. Traveling over the mountains would already be well-nigh impassable for humans. He'd done it plenty of times, but he also came with his own built-in fur coat. So much for heading to Star. "Northwest is out of the question, this time of year."

"We could go south, head west to Haven," Hilde suggested.

Duo considered that. He'd not been to Haven in two years, but last he'd heard they were intact, working the battered land and having mild successes. It'd be only one rough crossing, through the pass, but... He shook his head. "There's a resort about thirty miles' distance from the border. But it looked pretty pricey. That would give you reason for being down there, and take you out of the usual observation for long enough to slip away."

Heero looked unconvinced.

"Trowa would accompany you as the bodyguard," Duo continued, thinking out loud. "Meiran and Wufei—if he joins us—as a second couple, enjoying the vacation. It's just a matter of money."

Heero snorted.

"I know someone," Trowa said, quietly. He didn't look their way, and Duo suspected he knew who Trowa meant. "He's discreet. I'll speak with him tomorrow."

"Hilde and I will do the arrangements on our end. Your job—" Duo glanced at Relena, and Heero. "Is to say goodbye to whomever matters to you here, but without alerting them. And it is goodbye, because you won't be coming back, and I don't know, having left, whether I'd be able to get messages to anyone you know. The few people who've ever gotten out—myself included—have left behind friends who've been under surveillance until proven ignorant."

"My mother, my brother," Relena murmured, under her breath. "What if I leave letters for them? So they at least know, afterwards?"

"That's fine. Make it clear you didn't tell them beforehand, but you mustn't act suspicious, make them worry, give them any reason... " Duo figured he didn't need to finish that line of thinking. Relena seemed to understand. He turned to Heero.

"No." Heero gave him a shy smile, if tinged with sadness. "Everyone I love is in this room."

Trowa's eyes widened, and then, when Heero glanced his way, Trowa smiled, a sweetly open look. Duo caught it, and wondered, but felt no jealousy. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd been included in Heero's statement, but that Trowa was part of that, too, if in a different manner. Besides, Duo hadn't smelled Trowa on Heero except in the casual degree of the two perhaps standing close while talking, so Duo had no doubts Heero had held up his promise that he wouldn't be with anyone else. Not that Duo should need to check, he reminded himself, a bit sharply. And he didn't, not really. He realized he felt little jealousy at all, and noted it for later contemplation.

"Wufei and I are both only children, and... " Meiran shrugged. "I'll send a letter to my grandmother, so it arrives after we've left."

The conversations continued, mostly between Relena and Meiran, but Duo withdrew, turning to look down on the street below. Dusk settled, orange-blush over the city, and Heero came to stand at Duo's shoulder.

"The mountains are dangerous," Heero observed, a flatness in his tone that set Duo's teeth on edge. Danger, it said; Heero smelled of fear, anxiety, uncertainty, and a hint of longing. "We'd be slowed down, too, with so many people."

"We'll have two months to prepare."

"Without raising suspicions." Heero snorted.

"Hey, you'd be surprised what you can get away with." Duo pulled his braid around, studying the chestnut-coppery threads before dropping it. "People see what they want to see, not what's there. Be what they don't expect to see, and you're damn near invisible."

Heero frowned, just a little around the eyes. "Like you'd know. You stand out."

Duo chuckled, and turned to see Relena shutting the door behind Hilde and Trowa. She sighed, leaning against the door for a moment before trudging across the small space to join them. Closing her eyes, she stopped a few feet short of them, and with a breath, fell forward.

Heero dropped low, catching her around the waist, while Duo instinctively caught her shoulders, letting her head fall against his chest. It was awkward, but gently they raised her back up, and she slipped her arms around their waists, tilting her head back to give them a smug look.

"I know you'd catch me," she whispered, kissing Duo, then Heero. "I trust you both to protect our children."

"And you," Duo replied, forcing the words out.

"Yes." Heero buried his face in her neck, clinging tightly to both of them. "If anything happened, Rel... "

"Things will happen," she replied, but smiled at Duo. "But that's not the same as something bad happening."

Duo moved to embrace them both, and somehow ended up with Heero a bit more in the middle. He was holding onto Relena, but one hand had clutched Duo's shirt and wouldn't budge. Duo grinned, kissing them both lightly, before leaning back to look down at them from his just-barely taller height.

"Mine," he murmured.

"Yours," they both replied, a promise.

For a long time, they stood by the window, hugging each other, saying nothing, until Relena stirred. She sighed, and laid her head on Heero's shoulder, looking past him to Duo.

"We'll probably have to carry rucksacks, I guess," she said. When Duo nodded, she made a moue. "D'ya think there will be enough room for a book?"

"How big?" Heero grimaced. "A book isn't the highest priority—"

"Nothing big," she assured him. "Just... a book of names. For our children."

"What's wrong with Duo Junior?" Duo grinned widely, not even bothering to dodge when she swatted him on the shoulder. "Hey, no, really. I think it's rather catchy. Or you could go for Junior One, Junior Two... "

Heero shut him up, in an effective manner, but only temporarily. Duo pulled back from the kiss, and kept going.

"Junior Three and Junior Four. We'd call them One, Two—"

The second time, Relena's kiss stopped him from talking. When her hand dug down into his jeans, he whimpered into her mouth, and Heero laughed.

Naturally, Duo wasn't about to let that one pass, and for a little while they seemed to agree to forget about what lay ahead. For at least one night, they would pretend, and in the morning, they'd begin planning their journey to freedom.


End file.
